


Would You Still Read Me Baby (If I weren't required?)

by Jakes_Alright



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora is a mess, Adora's pronouns are she/they, Also Quidditch player!Catra, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Bunch of Jocks with Mutual Pining, Catra is an even bigger mess (just interanlly), Childhood Friends, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Gyffindor! Adora, Im new here, Potions, Prefect!Adora, Quidditch player!Adora, School rivals, Slow Burn, Slytherin!Catra, Spells & Enchantments, The General Witchcraft Things, These bitches gay and swear a lot btw, giving it an M rating just in case, probable smut?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:35:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 37,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28425600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jakes_Alright/pseuds/Jakes_Alright
Summary: Adora Grayskull is entering into her final year at Hogwarts, and everything seems to be going to plan. The best grades in the school, top of her class, and heading towards a future as a professional Quidditch star. Things she couldn't have done without the help and unconditional support of her best friends. It's looking to be a fantastic 7th year, with her hard work finally paying off, and she couldn't be happier.That is, until she is forced under unusual circumstances to reconnect with her former childhood-best-friend-now-rival Catra Cortez. Which needless to say is complicated, considering the fact that Gryffindor vs Slytherin rivalry has never been more intense. Now, Adora's life plan hangs in the balance as she faces questions not only about her rocky past with Catra, but their future as well.
Relationships: Adora & Bow & Glimmer (She-Ra), Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora - Relationship, Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra), Catra & Entrapta & Scorpia (She-Ra), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra), catradora - Relationship
Comments: 23
Kudos: 119





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A She-Ra x Hogwarts crossover! I wanted to bring together two of my favorite universes into a classic friends to enemies to lovers story. All characters will be from the She-Ra universe, just set in a Hogwarts setting. Also all characters are 18 and up, despite technically being 7th years. This is my first time writing a fanfic, so I hope anyone who comes across this enjoys it because I had a lot of fun writing it. Not sure how many chapters it will be, we'll see what my motivation has in store lol. 
> 
> S/o to my lovely partner J for helping me with editing and double checking all the HP references, couldn't have done it without you.
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr @jakesalright if you have any questions or just want to say hi!
> 
> P.S. for this first chapter, Dahlia is a made up character mostly there to establish that Adora has major fuckboy energy. That is all.

Chapter 1: Saved by the Goddamn Bell 

Adora loves ties. 

She loves the way they feel around her neck every morning, weaving the gold and red material around her collar. She loves the way the smooth fabric lies perfectly against her white shirt, outlined by her dark robe. She loves the ritual of getting ready in the exact same way, every morning. The way her bed creaks on the right side, and the way she avoids the nail sticking out of the third floorboard leading to her dresser. She also loves leaving the tie a little loose which is only a minor detail, but is meant to (hopefully) give off the impression of ‘I swear I’m not a prick,’ despite everything else about her which screams otherwise.

But in this moment, Adora really _fucking_ loves ties. 

Adora’s back nudges against the closet door, pushing it open and leading Dahlia, a seventh year Ravenclaw girl, inside the small space adjacent to the corridor. Ten minutes prior, the two were flirting in the courtyard after their Transfigurations class. Adora hardly knew the girl, but apparently Dahlia knew _exactly_ who Adora was when she walked up to her and immediately started a conversation. It wasn’t really surprising that Dahlia knew who she was, and she certainly wasn't the first girl to try to grab Adora’s attention, considering Adora had won more house cup titles and been prefect longer than any other student. Trying not to overthink it, Adora had flirted back and gave Dahlia her bright, lopsided smile as they moved through the busy corridors. The two made small talk, and Adora took notice of the slight blush creeping across Dahlia’s face. Adora was about to say goodbye to the girl and head out towards her next class when suddenly two things crossed her mind: 

One- Adora’s next class is potions, which is without a doubt the worst hour of her day and the broom that is wedged so far up Professor Weaver’s ass has probably not budged. Meaning, Weaver will undoubtedly make Adora’s life a living hell the second she enters the classroom. 

Two- Dahlia is cute, and Adora can feel her rationale slipping away by every step as she thinks about which of the two is obviously the best option. 

So in a split second decision, Adora gives in to her desire and grabs Dahlia’s hand to lead her away from the other students. Dahlia has a curious look in her eye, and a sly expression crosses her face as she realizes what is happening. Now awkwardly trying to cover up their laughs with whispers, the pair find the small closet that Adora has been searching for. 

“Okay here we go. I don’t think anyone goes down this wing anymore, so we should be fine. I figured this place would work to uh, talk and stuff? I’ve been here before so I know that it's pretty... soundproof. Also I have to leave in like-” Adora is cut off by Dahlia grabbing her tie and pulling her downward. 

“You really do talk a lot for someone who only has a few minutes to spare.” Dahlia suggestively replies. 

She tugs again at the tie, slowly walking back and dragging Adora with her as they land against the back wall. Adora’s brain practically short circuits from the act, and Dahlia brings their bodies together with almost no room to spare. Their faces are mere inches away and Dahlia smiles as and gently tugs once more on Adora’s tie, eyes entirely focused on her lips. 

Adora takes the hint and thinks, _fuck it_. 

She brings her free hand to cup Dahlia’s face, leaning in to press her lips against the other girl. Dahlia makes a small sound of surprise before reciprocating the kiss, letting go of the tie and grabbing at the back of Adora’s neck steady herself. Adora tries to start slow, softly kissing Dahlia’s lips and breathing in the smell of her perfume which reminds her of clean laundry and a new spring day. Adora loses herself for a moment, deepening the kiss as she situates her body against Dahlia so one of her legs is in between the other girl’s thighs. Dahlia’s legs go weak for a split second, and soon Adora can’t seem to catch her breath as she tugs on Dahlia’s bottom lip. 

Wanting to keep up with the pace, Dahlia goes to pull Adora’s robe off of her. She feels the fabric gently fall off Adora’s broad shoulders and reaches back for Adora when her hands suddenly hit soft skin. Her eyes fly open, and Dahlia looks down and lets out a laugh when she sees Adora’s outfit. 

“Where…..are your shirt sleeves?” 

Adora takes a moment to process what Dahlia says. She’s so riled up she can practically feel her heartbeat in her face. She then registers that her robe has fallen to the ground, and her arms are now fully exposed. 

“Oh I...cut them off.” Adora replies simply, looking down at her bare arms that have long ago stopped fitting into the uniform shirts required by Hogwarts. 

“I can see why.” Dahlia nods, glancing down at Adora’s _very defined_ biceps. 

Adora didn’t always have this problem. When she was younger she used to be engulfed in the uniforms, constantly having to roll up the sleeves and literally tripping over her pants while running down the Gryffindor tower. But that quickly changed around her fourth, most notably fifth year, when she grew almost four inches over the course of a few months and made the Quidditch team as the first pick. At that time she had also been putting on muscle ridiculously well for someone her age. It would’ve been more embarrassing if it wasn’t so much fun watching the older Quidditch players become easily intimidated, most of them nervously staring at her everytime she entered the pitch. 

Adora thinks back to the day she decided she’d had enough of the sleeves. 

She’d been aware that her arms had been filling out, but it had gotten to the point where her mobility was noticeably limited. It annoyed the shit out of her, and she tried to ignore it, until the day she was late to Quidditch practice and was forced to wear her school shirt instead. 

The captain of the Gryffindor team at that time, Huntara, had them running new flying formations so things were already off to a rocky start. Adora pulled her broom close to her chest as she soared above her teammates, feeling the smooth wood under her palms and the specific curves of the handle that she’d memorized over the years. She normally wouldn’t even be involved in formation drills as the Seeker, but to her luck Huntara decided that that day of all days, Adora was needed. 

She could barely do any of her usual moves or maneuvers with the fabric so tight against her upper body. She tried to fly down and weave through her teammates in a smooth fashion, but the new diagonal formation that the Chasers and Beaters were doing threw her angle off. She ended up having to lower herself between her Bow and Mermista, tightly squeezing between the two and not leaving nearly enough room as the plan had called for. As they neared the target zone, Adora decided to improvise and went to reach for the Snitch which zipped below them, refracting gold beams from the afternoon sun. But, already at a terrible angle and realizing she couldn’t even raise her arms above her head from the shirt, she completely missed it. 

In her wild attempt to grab the Snitch, she knocked the back of Bow’s broom in a downward _swooshing_ motion, causing a chain reaction among her teammates. Bow smashed into Glimmer who was off to his right shoulder, and the abrupt change of speed caused the hilt of Mermista’s broom to practically impale Adora’s back. Glimmer and a few others ahead of her were the only ones able to recover their balance in time, but those around Adora were not so lucky. Being slightly lower in the formation than the rest of them, Adora hit the ground first and the hardest. She could feel the wind that got knocked out of her lungs practically mocking her as she huffed out, choking and gasping at the air that didn’t seem to come. 

She heard a loud _THUD_ as Bow and Mermista came crashing down moments later. 

Bow landed on his left shoulder and rolled over himself a few times before coming to halt a few feet from Adora, face down in the freshly cut grass. Mermista had spun out of control and was flung off her broom a little further from them, a string of curses ringing out as she tumbled forward. Bow lifted his head up from the ground, a large dirt scrape slathered across the side of his face. He groaned and gave Adora a confused look, about to ask her what the hell just happened but Adora beat him to it. 

“Stupid _FUCKING_ shirt.” She gritted out a little too loudly. She then immediately felt a wave of regret glancing around at the wreck she had caused, and more importantly, at the swelling forming on Bows face from his massive scrape. 

“Shit, Bow I’m really sorry, I took that grab too early and my reach was so limited by my-” Adora was interrupted by Huntara blowing her whistle and paused to look over at their captain. 

Huntara, who had swiftly flown down to assess the situation, was standing nearby Mermista and glared in Adora’s direction as if to say _‘I’ll get to you later.’_

Adora was already beyond embarrassed by the entire ordeal, and decided to show herself out of practice that day, waving off Bow and Glimmer’s attempts to help her. She headed to the locker rooms, leaning over to haphazardly throw her things into her bag and winced at the sharp pain in her back caused by Mermista’s earlier jab. She knew she struggled with failure, but this was different. 

This was all because she couldn’t fit into a simple shirt. 

When she finally made it back to her dormitory, she felt like screaming as the tears that had been welling up finally fell down her face. In a moment of rage and frustration, she grabbed at her arms and ripped off the sleeves from where they were attached at her shoulders. The seams had burst apart like shredded paper under Adora’s strong grip. 

The white threads of the sleeves fell to the ground like feathers, and Adora just stood there staring at the expensive shirt that was now basically a tank top. And in that moment she felt the pressures of the day roll off of her like waves. She almost laughed. 

Almost. 

Then, she froze. 

She thought about how there was no way in hell she could go out wearing this, and she would probably get detention for literally _breaking_ the dress code. But then again, her robe normally covered her arms and shoulders anyway so it wasn’t like anyone would be able to tell. Convincing herself that it was fine, she grabbed the pair of scissors tucked away in her wooden desk and cut the sleeves off the rest of her shirts. 

Despite the impulsive decision, she kept it that way and never looked back. Only a few people knew about the sleeve situation (Glimmer and Bow in particular), but for the most part Adora had found that she didn’t have any problems with her choice of uniform. 

Except now, standing in front of Dahlia, Adora accepts the fact that a sleeveless button up shirt is pretty ridiculous upon first sight. But Dahlia doesn’t seem to mind at all, so Adora just grins in response and gently pushes the fallen robe out of the way with her foot. She’s about to move in again to resume where they left off, but she hears the echo of the bell tower ringing off in the distance, signaling the end of the break between classes. 

Adora shoots up, nearly colliding heads with Dahlia who also looks just as surprised. They both register the fact that their books are sprawled out across the room, their clothes are definitely disheveled, and there's lots of hair sticking out in odd places. 

“Um should we…?” Dahlia asks.

“Yes.” Adora responds, nodding her head in a silent agreement. 

Clearing her throat, she leans down to scoop up her robe and slides the soft fabric over her arms. She turns around to gather her things probably a little too quickly, and smiles to herself seeing that Dahlia is also struggling to collect her composure. Dahlia looks up and blushes, slightly avoiding eye contact but eventually lets out a laugh at their situation. 

They head for the door, Adora opening it in a rush and scanning around to make sure no one is coming down the long hallway. 

“So I guess I’ll see you around?” Dahlia asks. 

“Yeah! Well, um, maybe? Sorry this was fun, but I really have to go.” Adora fumbles over her words, not thinking about the fact that they came off anxious and probably rude. She double checks to make sure all of her books and her wand are for sure in her book bag, before she slings it over her shoulder. She then glances over at Dahlia, who is now awkwardly starting to back away. 

“Bye Adora.” She finally says, turning and laughing to herself over Adora’s own chaos. 

“Bye!” Adora replies, but she’s already running towards her potions class so she's not sure Dahlia actually hears her. But Dahlia is the least of Adora’s concerns right now. She’s already a few minutes late and knows Weaver is probably going to deduct points from Gryffindor on her behalf, at the LEAST. Could be, and most likely will be, much worse depending on Weavers mood today. 

She rounds the corner of one the massive marble staircases. She almost trips over the last step, which she personally nicknamed Alfred Bitch Step, because of the sheer amount of times she has fallen over it. 

“Fuck _off_ Alfred.” She mutters, trying to pick up her pace again. Her shoes slap against the stone floors, and she can feel the sweat starting to cling to the back of her shirts. And her neck. And her forehead. 

_Why am I always sweating,_ she thinks. 

She finally reaches the last of the seemingly endless set of stairs. Turning another corner, she sighs seeing that the door to potions stands only a few feet away. That's when she slows down, and notices that another person is headed towards her as well. Which is unusual, since Adora is almost 9 minutes late to the start of class. Which she knows, because she counted. 

It isn’t until the person gets closer that Adora realizes it's another Slytherin. But not just any Slytherin, Catra _fucking_ Cortez. 

_Of. Course. Its. Catra._

They are both obviously late, and both clearly out of breath as they arrive at the door at the same time. Adora hesitates, staring at the girl who quite literally used to mean the entire world to her. But now, she can't stand to look her in the eye. 

Catra scowls, realizing around the same time as Adora that they are both in the same boat, and unfortunately are having their first real interaction in years. Catra doesn’t say anything at first, just staring at Adora with a mix of disdain and confusion. So they both just stand there, waiting for the other to say something. 

“Nice robe” Catra finally says, in a mocking tone. 

Adora looks down to realize that her robe has been turned inside out, and Adora would normally fix it before going into the class but you know, _sleeves_. 

She slightly blushes, thinking about her break with Dahlia. She reaches for the back of her neck and wipes the sweat off. She then looks over at Catra’s appearance, which looks almost as messy as her own. Her short hair looks windswept, as if she just came from outside. Her cheeks are slightly flushed, which only accentuate the freckles that are scattered all over her annoyingly perfect face. But that's when Adora sees it. 

“Nice mud stain” Adora counters, quirking an eyebrow. 

Its Catra’s turn to glance down, searching her clothing to see what Adora is talking about but unsuccessfully finding the source of the mud. 

“You’re such a bitc-” 

But Catra stops when she watches Adora motioning to her own face, hinting at its location. Catra reaches up and feels the dried mud that has been caked over on the side of her face. She aggressively tries to rub it off, while glaring at Adora. 

“As much as I would love to stand in this freezing corridor with you, which I don’t, can you let me through so I can go to this stupid class.” Catra spits out. 

Adora couldn’t agree more, and instead of letting Catra go in first Adora reaches for the handle and opens the door for her, widely gesturing with her arm to the inside of the class. 

“After you, dirt serpent” She quips. 

Catra rolls her eyes, heaving her bookbag up again and heading inside. Bracing herself for the upcoming reprimands of Weaver. 

_Let's just get this over with,_ Adora thinks and she follows right after her.


	2. Rise of the Dirt Serpent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra Cortez is in her final year at Hogwarts as head girl, and trying to make it worth her while before leaving for good. However, its never easy going against her own Quidditch captain, being constantly dirty, and racing against the clock over and over again. With the big opening match coming up, Catra knows she's got to give it her all and ignore any distractions. Including a certain ex-best-friend who just seems to loves popping back into her life at all the wrong times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back for Chapter 2, this time from Catra's POV. This chapter also takes place the same morning as chapter 1, just to give everyone a reference of the timeline. 
> 
> Also thank you for the kind comments and kudos, it really kept me going to finish up the chapter! 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you all enjoy :)

Chapter 2: Rise of the Dirt Serpent 

Catra hates the cold. 

She hates how it makes her muscles tense, the way it cuts into her bones making her stiff as a board. She hates how it’s the reason she wears two pairs of socks all the time, and how it always makes the tip of her nose go slightly red. Which, Scorpia would say was her most adorable feature, and Catra would practically gag at the sentiment everytime. If Catra’s bitterness was mapped on a graph, it would have a direct correlation to the moment the days started getting shorter in the winter. It especially didn’t help that the Slytherin common room somehow refused to stay warm. Even the fire that glowed on the right side of the room couldn’t hold back the dampness that permeated through the carpets and couches, completely shrouded by the towering gothic pillars. Catra had recently discovered that the common room fire actually never went out. It got down to the embers at night of course, but you could always still find it glowing in the hazy hours of the early morning. 

She and the fire had become unusual friends, as the past few weeks had consisted of some of the earliest mornings of her life. Dragging her feet across the common room, she would stare at the soft glow of the coals until her vision wasn’t so blurry and she felt like she was a real person again. To her friends, she would blame her dark under eyes on her hectic academic life. Which was partially true, since her schedule was filled with back to back classes this year, and on top of that they weren’t even the ones she wanted to take. You’d think as head girl she would get priority over her classes, but she should’ve known better. Time slots for morning Transfigurations had filled up fast, and Professor Angella’s waiting list filled up even faster. So Catra ended up having to cram Potions in right before her other classes just in case she got off the waiting list, which heavily complicated her already intense workload. But that wasn’t entirely the issue behind her endless exhaustion. 

The Quidditch fields didn’t open until late morning, mainly for maintenance, and they didn’t “technically” become available to students until after the end of classes. So, throwing technicalities out the window, Catra had been sneaking in around 5:30 a.m. to get some extra practice in. For the past four weeks she had been doing this routine, which was wearing her down like a grinding stone against a brittle leaf. She had aches and bruises in places she didn’t even know were possible. 

_Like who gets sore in their upper ass cheek?_ She asked herself as she pulled on her emerald sweater, layering it with her thickest wool robe. She could barely see two feet in front of her at this time of morning, but she knew her way around the small room so it usually didn’t matter. 

Usually. 

Maybe it was because she was extra tired this morning, or maybe it was something in the air, but as she finished zipping up her pants she turned just a little too quickly and slammed her right knee in the bed frame. _Hard_. 

She stumbled forward and bit her lip to hold back a shout, grabbing her knee and leaning against the edge of her bed to steady herself. Swearing under her breath and trying to remain quiet, she peeked over at Scorpia. Unsurprisingly, Scorpia remained undisturbed and kept on snoring like there hadn’t just been a loud bang that shook the entire room. Catra was thankful Scorpia slept like a rock, and that she never had to explain why every morning she was dressed like she was about to go out into a blizzard, with her broom in hand, at 5 a.m. 

Slowly closing the door to their room, Catra meandered her way out from the dormitory area and padded across the common room. She wandered past the fire without a glance; the throb in her knee had been enough to fully wake her up today. Moving through the stone entrance, she hurried down the grand staircase making sure not to wake any of the people in the paintings. She didn’t even need her wand to light the way because the nightfall was already shifting into a deep blue, and daybreak was just barely approaching. 

She quietly walked ahead through a few more corridors, missing the warmth of her bed as she felt a sharp draft hit her cheeks. Finally reaching the open breezeways, she shivered and held her broom a little tighter. The sound of her shoes clacking against the polished granite steps was the only thing making any noise at this time, which she was grateful for since she couldn’t handle another incident of getting caught out of bed. And even though she was freezing and not fully awake yet, she actually loved the peacefulness of these mornings. No one was bothering her asking dumb questions, or walking too slow in the halls, or being idiotically loud with their friends. After years of chaos in her own life, she honestly craved the serenity. 

Working her way down the steps of the castle, she veered left down the dirt path which led past the training grounds and in the direction of the Quidditch pitch. A low hanging fog enveloped the grass, causing the bottom of her pants to dampen and stick to her ankles as she trudged across it. She frowned to herself, trying to ignore her annoyance at how the cold always found its way to her. If she could wear three pairs of socks, she would. 

As she neared the Quidditch stadium Catra moved right past the main entrance, which was clearly locked, and instead worked her way around the edge of the right side. Towards the back of the stadium was a small entrance, primarily used by maintenance, that could be easily unlocked without any charm necessary. All she had to do was put her foot on the tiny ledge at the bottom of the wooden gate, give herself a boost just enough to reach over the top, and slide the latch on the inside of the door frame. It swung open without a hitch, and Catra ducked her head a little to weave through the rafters. She could see the fog covering the entirety of the pitch and she knew that even though the grass looked pristine, if she hit the ground today, the mud would be ruthless. 

See that was the logical thought she had, and yet it didn’t stop her from falling right off her broom after her third time trying to get through her maneuver. 

A maneuver that Catra had been working her ass off on since the start of the semester. Practicing it had been something of a secret she’d been keeping from the rest of the team since god knows if anyone took the spotlight from Prime, the Slytherin captain and local tyrant, they wouldn’t make it out alive for the rest of the season. 

Instead of falling, she was supposed to have swung to the underside of the broom, locking her ankles together as she flipped around in order to steady the shaft. This allowed her to fly upside down, and essentially have her hands free to catch the Snitch in a swift motion while the broom sailed straight ahead. However, on this go around she didn’t squeeze her legs together tight enough, and her ankles completely slipped off one another from being so wet. She wasn’t flying high up at all, but being completely detached from any hold on the broom she easily came crashing down, landing on her side and painfully slamming into her right knee once again. She cried out at the sudden impact, and sat up feeling the muddy ground dip beneath her. 

“Are you _serious?_ I just washed this.” She said looking down at herself, holding a handful of her sweater that no longer resembled an emerald color at all. 

It was now thoroughly soaked through from condensation, her own sweat, and _lots_ of mud. She could also feel that some mud had landed on the edge of her face, but she honestly couldn’t have cared less since she realized her broom was nowhere to be found. She looked around and saw that it had landed on the edge of the pitch, just poking out from under the long Gryffindor banner hanging from the watchtower. She groaned as she peeled herself off the ground, practically crawling over to her broom. She was about to lean down to pull it out from under the heavy material, but stopped a moment to glance up at the gold and red figures above her. 

The school had just put in a new set of banners, with the obvious crest of each house still proudly printed in the center. However, the newest addition was the inclusion of giant, moving pictures highlighting action-shots of certain players. Catra looked up at the Gryffindor banner and saw Adora’s face, smiling with one fist raised in the air, clearly clasping the Snitch. Her smile was infectious, and the picture seemed to capture a moment of pure happiness with her hair wild and the stands cheering behind her. Another picture included a girl with bright pink hair and a serious look on her face, winding up to smack a Bludger heading her way. At the top of the banner was a boy in a crop top, looking determined as he carried a Quaffle towards the goal. At the bottom were more faces Catra didn’t recognize, but they all seemed to be having the time of their lives. 

It made bile rise within her chest. 

She scowled and spit out a piece of grass that was still lingering in her mouth from the fall, making a point to have it land at the foot of the Gryffindor flag. She quickly leaned down and grabbed her broom out from beneath the banner before it became infected by Gryffindor arrogance. She hated that she had to see that banner everyday. 

Hated it almost as much as having to see Adora around school everyday, with fake fans following her every move and her group of friends that seemed to travel as a creepy pack. It was fucking weird in Catra’s eyes, who only had maybe two friends and couldn’t really stand them most of the time. But deep down, if she was being honest with herself, she was grateful for them. 

She thinks about how Adora never used to worry about how many friends she had, or how many people wanted to kiss the ground she walked on. 

She thinks about the foster home, about how Adora’s small hand used to fit in her own, and how that hand used to lead her into all kinds of trouble. That was a _real_ friendship, not the bullshit excuse of admirers Adora has now. 

She shudders. 

_“The past is no longer a vessel for your pain”_ She recalls Perfuma’s words from the other day, and closes her eyes to take a deep breath remembering that her lungs still need air. Even though for some reason they like to magically stop working every time she sees, or even thinks about, Adora. She tries to calm down, but it only makes her frustration grow. 

Promptly turning her back to the pictures of Gryffindor, she walks away with a death grip on her broom handle. She scans across the field, slightly tilting her head up to look up at her own team's banner. The silver and green trim of the Slytherin flag flaps in the wind, its perimeter outlined by winding snakes with barred fangs and intricately layered scales. The Slytherin emblem is hardly noticeable in comparison to the huge image of Prime on his broom, staring directly forward with an absolutely terrifying gaze. Catra’s pretty sure that down the line he had bribed someone to make his picture practically the only thing visible. But if you try really, really hard you can see a shot of Scorpia in the upper right corner, smiling and waving as she hovers in front of the goal. The bottom section though is equally as strange, showing multiple players precisely lined up in the air, all with shaved heads and matching tattoos. Prime’s devout players. 

Or, _the clones_ , as Catra likes to call them. 

Catra’s glad she's the only one who didn’t make it on the banner, for many reasons. One, it would mean that Prime would have to recognize her as more than a bench player, which would then mean she’d be a new threat to his glory. Two, it would mean she’d probably have to shave her head or get one of those god awful tattoos. And three, it would mean that Catra would have to admit just how much she loved Quidditch, and all the pride and attention she got from winning. 

It would mean that Scorpia was right in convincing her to join the team last year, and that despite being a natural on a broom she had still had to work hard to earn her spot. Which she did. But it didn’t make training any less miserable, or cold, or wet. This year was also different because some of the clones had graduated, and Prime’s old strategy of beating the shit out of everyone until they fell to the ground was not going to cut it. Not when Gryffindor’s offensive team was stacked against them, and Adora could practically out-fly all of them combined no matter how long the match went on. 

So, knowing she had nothing to lose, Catra put herself out there to suggest a contingency plan and to everyone's surprise, Prime listened. Not because he gave a single shit about her, but because he was so hell bent on winning it didn’t matter who the idea came from, it just needed to work. The training for their strategy had been ridiculously intense, and most days Catra couldn’t feel her legs afterwards. She’d gone through the hazing, and the verbal ridicule, and the back breaking effort to know she was on this fucking team whether people liked it or not. All that was left though was for Catra to nail this move, and be taken seriously for once. The bonus however, would be watching the light drain from Adora’s eyes as she realized she’s no longer the best seeker on the pitch anymore. Catra smirks at the prospect. 

Out of nowhere she feels a sudden warmth land gently on her face, and she's brought back to the present. The bright rays of sunlight are beginning to peek over the horizon, shining through the web of rafters and blinding Catra on sight. She squints to look at her watch. It's nearly 15 minutes past the time she's supposed to leave the fields. 

_Oh shit Scorpia’s going to kill me for not waking her up,_ she thinks in a panic and moves towards the wooden gate, remembered to pick up her robe off the grass on the way out. 

The mud all over her has since dried, and it begins to flake off of her as she runs towards the castle. It's still early enough that students are just now heading to their first or second classes of the day, and Catra sprints up the steps avoiding the weird looks thrown her way. She prays that no one from the team saw her directly, and enters the common room in a rush. Luckily, only a few fourth years are standing around talking about god knows what, probably something irrelevant. They stare at her in confusion and slight judgement, but Catra just sends them a piercing glare and they all look away in embarrassment. She still hears their whispers as she storms past them, heading directly to her room. She knows she probably smells like shit, and looks like shit too, but she has no time to shower. She heads directly to her room, hoping Scorpia was awake by now. 

“Oh! Catra hey, I was worried you left without me, do you want to get-” But Scorpia stops when she sees Catra. 

Catra has grass stains all over her pants, mud still smeared all over her sweater, and her hair has been blown to one side of her head. She also has this crazy expression on her face that probably doesn’t help her case either. 

“Wildcat you good? Why do you look like you fell into a ditch?” Scorpia laughs, giving Catra a questioning look. 

“Yeah Scorp I’m fine, I just-” Catra stops mid sentence as she throws her broom under her bed, squatting down over to grab her trunk and dig through it for a clean outfit. 

“I’m super late, sorry for not waking you up for class.” She finishes. She doesn’t look up to see 

Scorpia with a new look of concern on her face. 

“Are you hurt?? You’re limping and I cannot have you limping before the big match because Prime will kill us both. Oh this is bad. This is very bad.” Scorpia rambles as she rushes over to Catra, trying to help her. 

“Scorpia! I’m fine! You. Need. To. Chill.” Catra exclaims with a laugh. 

“I don't believe you, but I can’t argue because I’m also late and starving so I'm heading to breakfast if you want to come?” Scorpia offers, grinning way too big for Catra’s current mood.

“Can’t, sorry, still _incredibly_ late.” Catra was starting to get annoyed, but she kept a tight, apologetic grin on her face so Scorpia would get the message. 

“Okay! No worries! By the way I think you look great today, this whole rugged, disorganized thing you got going on kind of works for you.” Scorpia replies while gathering her things. 

“Scorpia. Get out.” 

“Yep! Sorry. Love you! Have a good day! See you at practice.” She cheerfully yells back as she closes the door. 

Catra has never met anyone with so much passion and energy in the morning in her entire life. She would've found Scorpia’s antics comical, if it wasn’t for her mess of a morning. She sighs, stripping down to her underwear and throwing her muddy clothing into the hamper in the corner. She pulls out a pair of black trousers that make her ass look _amazing_ , looping a black leather belt through them, and pairing it with a white dress shirt that she french tucks into the front of her pants. She looks for one of her green ties but, unable to find any, assumes they must all be in the wash. Skipping the tie, she throws on a soft dark grey sweater over her dress shirt, quickly popping the collar out, and looking for a pair of thick socks that aren’t mismatched. Finally, she locates her favorite black robe, the thin one lined with green satin, that hangs off the side of her bedpost. 

She then moves around the end of her bed, opening the drawer to her bedside table and pulling out a shiny gold pin. It's small, less than an inch or so in diameter. As the only remaining object left of her mom, Catra normally doesn’t risk pulling it out. But, seeing as she needed some luck today, she pokes it through the front of the robe, hiding it just under the lapel. She then grabs the head girl badge off the top of her side table that she normally wears, and situates it to the right of the hidden pin. She stands up straight and very quickly takes in her appearance in the mirror, which she thinks is not bad considering her situation five minutes ago. And she smells...slightly less horrible. Not great, but still, it could be worse. 

She scans the room, locating her book bag which is slumped in the corner right next to the door. She doesn’t even check to see if she has the right books, and she picks it up and throws it over one shoulder. She knows she should probably grab something to eat from the great hall before class, but Potions is located on the far wing and she knows that even if she was walking as fast as she could, she wouldn’t make it there on time. 

So she’s running. Again. 

Well, a half jog really. She had heard the bells ring about three minutes before she left the common room, signaling the end of the passing period. She accepts the fact that the universe had already made up its mind, deciding to curse her for the day. Knowing she will (most definitely) be late to Weaver’s class, she tries to catch her breath a bit. She thinks about how Weaver is probably never going to let her live it down, inflating her power trip even more so than being head of Slytherin house already does. 

_Well Weaver can suck my-_

But her thought is interrupted as she turns around the corner of the hall, noticing someone else at the very end. The flash of blonde and the tall stature is all Catra needs to see before she immediately recognizes who it is. 

The universe is a bitch that just keeps swinging. 

Adora Grayskull was the last person in this entire goddamn castle that Catra wanted to see. And yet there they both were, late to the same class. Which, Catra almost forgot they had together. Until now. 

She walks over to the door, getting there right as Adora does. The impeccable, pristine look that Adora normally galivants around in has vanished. Today, her hair is tied back in a very loose ponytail, with strands poking out all over her head. Her shirt is very crumpled as well, and Catra can’t help but wonder what in the hell caused that. She has a few inclinations though, thinking back to the rumors she’s heard from DT about Adora’s endless list of flings. But Catra can’t be entirely sure that's the case. Until she spots the robe, clearly turned inside out and hanging a little too far off her left shoulder. She smirks. 

“Nice robe” Catra finally says. 

She almost surprises herself at how easy the words came out, and Adora’s face goes bright red as she looks down at her uniform. Catra’s smug grin grows wider in response, and she knows she would normally feel more awkward saying these things based on their history, but she can’t pass up the opportunity to give her a hard time. 

_That ego needs to be knocked down a few notches, my god._

Adora looks up again, taking in Catra’s look as well. Her sharp, analyzing gaze makes Catra’s heart rate pick up a bit. Then her eyebrows narrow, and a slow smile begins to spread across her face. 

“Nice mud stain.” Adora replies. 

Catra feels her stomach drop. Her eyes slightly widen as she searches her clothing, confused how the mud made it all the way onto her clean outfit. She swears Adora’s lying just to mess with her, as she goes on to say,

“You’re such a bitc-” 

But then she notices Adora holding back a laugh as she takes one finger and points to the side of her own face. Catra reaches up and realizes she still has a small line of dirt clinging to the edge of her hairline. She scowls, and rubs it off quickly before she faces anymore torment from the blonde. 

She’s embarrassed, sure, maybe even a little angry as well. But more than anything, shes _fucking cold_.

“As much as I would love to stand in this freezing corridor with you, which I don’t, can you let me through so I can go to this stupid class.” She manages to say without her voice cracking. 

_Good job Catra, you can talk to ex-best-friends all by yourself. Do you want a fucking gold star?_ She thinks, as she heads towards the door handle and lets out an exasperated sigh in the process. 

But Adora beats her to it, grabbing it and opening the door just a little too fast, making Catra jump back with alarm. She has a teasing smile on her face, and she dips her head down a bit in a mock bow, widely gesturing with her arms to the inside of the dark classroom. 

“After you, dirt serpent.” She says, and a small dimple forms at the corner of her mouth. 

_She's eating this shit up._

Catra rolls her eyes, and doesn’t look back as she walks into the room. Praying that this is the rock bottom of her day and that literally anything makes it get better from here. The room is filled with students, and it isn’t until Weaver’s sickening voice calls out that practically the entire class turns to look back at the two of them. 

“Catra...Adora….So glad you two could finally grace us with your presence.” Her tone is sickeningly sweet. 

If Catra didn’t know better, she’d say that a nice tone from Weaver meant something much, much worse than public humiliation. And boy was she about to find out...


	3. The Pin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! Thanks for being patient, school started again so things got kinda hectic. But I think this chapter is worth the wait, and its definitely a long one, so get ready for some backstory. 
> 
> Thanks again for all the love and support, it really does fuel writing process (and my god complex) lol. 
> 
> As always you can find me on tumblr @jakesalright, and thanks to J for putting up with a lot of edits Thats some king shit since I'm really about to double my word count with chapter. 
> 
> Be gay, and enjoy!

Chapter 3: The Pin 

If Adora thought she had been nervous sweating before, she was wrong. Standing in front of the entire Potions class, she could feel about twenty pairs of eyes curiously judging her arrival. Well, _their_ arrival, since Catra was also trapped in the entryway two feet away from her. Her heart was thrumming in her chest, and as she stood up straight she could feel more sweat clinging to the back of her shirt. Which, she desperately wanted to adjust but had decided against it since she was worried Weaver would notice her whole... _robe situation_. At that thought, the flush in her cheeks returned and out of the corner of her eye, Adora could see a hint of a smile forming on Catra’s face in response. 

_Great, it was obvious too._

Adora focused back to where Professor Weaver was speaking. The podium and desk in the front of the room were leveled up above the rest of the students, allowing Weaver a clear scope of the decrepit space that was somehow considered a classroom. On most occasions Weaver stood at the top of the podium, dressed in all black attire as if she was about to attend a funeral after every lecture. 

_How fitting,_ Adora thought.

There was a slight difference today, however. She had a blood-red blouse peeking out from beneath her cloak, and she was standing on the ground level for the beginning of the lesson. Which was actually more terrifying than Adora expected, because Weaver was just within reach to where Adora could see the outlines of the jarring scars carved across her face. Overall her entire get-up was exceptionally intimidating today, and it made Adora shiver. Then, with an embarrassing realization Adora had noticed that the room had gone quiet and that Weaver was staring at her expectantly. 

“Well Adora?” Weaver asked. 

“I couldn’t- sorry I couldn’t hear you, could you repeat the-” 

“I said…” Weaver paused to take a slow exhale before continuing.

“Since you seem to think that rules do not apply to you as Head Girl, I was inquiring how exactly are we supposed to hold standards for your fellow peers, who did arrive on time? And how should I, as a lawful teacher, go about punishing those who seem to take the privilege of their status too far?” Weaver cruelly finished. 

The irony of the situation did not escape Adora. If anyone needed their power checked it was Professor Weaver, but Adora would be damned if she allowed herself to get pulled into her mind games. She opted to hold her tongue, taking a minute to calm down her nerves and the mild frustration that was starting to build. She looked over at Catra again, who was now barely holding back a full blown grin. And in that moment the gears clicked in Adora’s head, and she got an idea. 

“Professor Weaver, I take full responsibility for my actions and I know they do not represent the other Gryffindors in this room right now. Holding myself to different standards is unfair to those who arrived on time. However on the note of fairness, I think it would make sense to suggest that point deductions go not only for my tardiness, but Catra’s as well.” Adora proposes in a calm manner. 

Catra suddenly whirls around looking at Adora, fury exploding on her face. 

“Oh, that's bullshit! Are you actually-” She's about mid-protest when Weaver cuts her off. 

“Silence! Twenty points from Gryffindor and Gryffindor _only_ , point deductions are under my discretion _not_ yours Adora.” She asserts, quickly crushing Adora’s attempt to level the playing field. But then her expression changes, and her gaze slowly glides over to Catra. 

“But….as it seems you are not the only insubordinate student, and prefect no less, that is in need of a lesson, the two of you will be getting Saturday detention.” Weaver explains. 

“WHAT! No!” Catra shouts out. And for once Adora agrees with her, realizing exactly what that would mean. She decides to speak up again. 

“Professor with all due respect, Saturday is the opening Quidditch match. Missing that, for _both_ of us, would be…” Adora glances over at Catra’s desperate expression, a strange unspoken understanding hanging between them. She continues, “..well it would be a much worse punishment than any point deductions from both Gryffindor and Slytherin.” Adora explains with as much caution as possible, bracing for Weaver’s response. 

But it doesn’t come. 

Instead Weaver studies Adora carefully, clearly thinking over the sentiment. As much as Weaver hates Gryffindor, and moreover Adora, Adora knows that Weaver can’t spare to have the Slytherin team lose their own seeker on the same day. Her pride is her most obvious weakness, and Adora knows that. Adora also knows how to work any angle, and she thinks there just might be a chance getting out of this one. Weaver narrows her eyes, glancing between the two of them.

“Fine. I am moving your detention to Monday afternoon, immediately after your end of classes for the day. Do not take this decision as a moment of generosity, you are both still a disappointment to the entire student body and I will make note of this to Head Master Razz.” Weaver finally says. 

Adora thinks that last statement is definitely an over-exaggeration, but she nods anyway in understanding and prays that they can just get on with the rest of the class. She doesn’t even need to look over at Catra to know that she’s staring holes into the back of her head.

“Take your seats. Oh and _Catra_ , talk to me after class.” Weaver says slowly, implying a haunting conversation in Catra’s future, and Adora is thankful she's not included in that. 

Adora works her way to the third row where Glimmer had been patiently waiting, watching the entire fiasco with an overly-concerned expression on her face. Adora quickly looks back at Catra one last time, who aggressively moved past other students and threw herself down into one of the chairs on the far end. That huge grimace is now back in its usual place on her face, and Adora can’t remember the last time she’s seen Catra genuinely smile. For a fleeting moment, a strange pang hits the inside of her chest. She tries to ignore the feeling as she lowers herself next to her best friend’s side, giving her a sheepish grin. 

“Adora where were you??” Glimmer demands with a frantic whisper. Weaver is now back up at the front, explaining the lecture to the other side of the room and just out of earshot. Adora digs through her bag to carefully pull out her ink and parchment before responding. 

“Long. Story.” Adora says in a low voice, not looking up from the desk. 

“Wait a minute...were you having one of those ‘meetings’ again…?” Glimmer asks, knowingly. 

There's a long pause, and Adora thinks there's no way she’s explaining this right now. 

“....You could call it that.” Adora eventually replies, without a further comment. 

“Oh. My. God. Adora with….with Catra?!” Glimmer exclaims. Her voice slightly above a whisper, and she's quickly turning her head back and forth between the two of them and Catra’s general direction. 

“NO. _No_. Glimmer. Ew. No not with Catra. And stop looking over there.” Adora says resoundingly, shaking her head to get _that_ thought out of her mind. She pokes Glimmer's cheek with her finger, trying to grab her attention and get her to stop talking so loud. But Glimmer presses on. 

“Adora, that would be _treason_.” Glimmer says dramatically, pointing her quill at her to get the message across. 

“I didn’t-,” 

“And I don’t want to judge, because like... I get it, you know? I mean she _is_ objectively hot. Objectively. I mean if cheekbones could _cut,_ jeez _._ But she's still an evil serpent who will probably kill you in your sleep.” Glimmer quietly rambles on, not noticing the range of emotions that cross Adora’s face when she mentions Catra’s attractiveness. 

“Glimmer wait- no stop it's not like that, and _quit_ looking over there oh my GOD.” Adora pulls Glimmer's head back towards her by the chin, staring straight at her to stop Glimmer's trail of thoughts. 

“Look okay nothing _happened._ I’ll explain more at lunch, I promise.” Adora finally releases her hold on Glimmer, who seems appalled that she wouldn’t fill her in about every detail. But knowing that Weaver is going to keep a close eye on Adora today, Glimmer nods and goes back to her own work. There's a moment of quiet between them before Adora speaks again. 

“It was a Ravenclaw girl...”

“Oh thank _fuck._ ”

The rest of the lesson goes on smoothly, the only instance being a Hufflepuff student accidentally spilling one of their vials onto the floor. Adora sits at the desk, feverishly taking notes on the contents of their cauldron and slowly feeling the rigidness in her shoulders begin to loosen. She quietly talks to Glimmer about their upcoming assignments, and she’s grateful that the class is almost over so she can breathe again. It’s only when she’s completely turned to face Glimmer again that she notices Catra staring at her in her peripheral, with a strange look on her face that Adora can’t quite place. Her grimace is gone, and replaced with a look of…. painful annoyance? Jealousy, maybe? Adora’s not quite sure, but Catra looks away so fast that Adora doesn’t have time to dwell on it. 

Catra has always been…complicated. Not that that ever bothered Adora when they were younger, but the thing is Adora doesn’t really know exactly who Catra is now. She’s clearly just as complicated. Calculating, even. And Adora feels almost wary being around her, like she could strike at any moment and Adora wouldn’t even know what hit her. Adora’s not sure why her mind keeps playing back their brief moment before class. Maybe a part of its guilt, since she honestly hasn’t talked to Catra in years. Or maybe a very small part of her sort of missed the banter. But then again, a lot of that conversation was fueled by genuine animosity so it's hard to tell. Her thoughts are broken by the bells going off, and Weaver calls out to the room. 

“Class dismissed! Turn in your assignments by next class for credit, or don’t. Either way I can still fail you all.” Weaver says, waving her hand in a disinterested gesture. 

Adora has never packed up her things so fast. Except for maybe this morning, right after her little ‘meeting.’ Glimmer follows Adora’s lead, pushing in the chairs and swiftly moving out of the classroom in the direction of the Great Hall. It's not long before masses of students begin to pour out of their respective classes as well, all flowing in different directions and filling the giant staircases with indiscernible chatter. 

Adora feels a breeze blow through the corridor, and she smiles to herself as she looks out towards the courtyard. The clouds have cleared and the bright mid-day sun has now made a gracious appearance. The temperature was also just the right amount of cold where she didn’t have to wear too many layers, but still brisk enough to where the sun’s warmth was definitely welcomed. It's the perfect Quidditch weather Adora thinks, and she hopes it continues throughout the weekend because she’s not ready for the rain just yet. 

Literally, she forgot to pack her rain jacket this year and she's been meaning to go to Hogsmeade to get another one. She makes a mental note to do that sometime next week as she keeps walking, squeezing her way through the bodies and trying not to lose Glimmer. As they near the tall entry to the Great Hall, the students thin out and Adora can once again hear Glimmer’s voice. 

“Okay so what happened with you earlier?” Glimmer finally asks as they enter through the doorway, heading to the right towards the Gryffindor table where the others have already gathered. 

“Honestly it was all just a mess” Adora admits, throwing her bag down on the bench. Bow is sitting across from them, perking up from his conversation with Sea Hawk and Mermista to turn towards the new arrivals. 

“What was a mess?” He asks curiously. 

Everyone turns their heads over to her and Adora realizes she’s about to explain her entire… _fuckery_ to a larger audience than she expected. She hesitates. 

“Memista my dear, are those new bracelets??” Sea Hawk excitedly states, leaning over Mermista who looks like she could strangle him. She tries to shove him off but he remains in place, smashing his shoulder right into to hers. Mermista begins to lecture him once again about personal space, and Adora takes the moment of distraction to turn back to Bow and Glimmer. 

“So there was this seventh year Ravenclaw girl, Dahlia…” Adora says trailing off, piling way too much food on her plate to distract herself from the conversation. 

“Oh yeah I have Herbology with her.” Bow says casually, not picking up on the implications of the situation. 

“Well, she’s kind of the reason I got Monday detention.” Adora says with an awkward smile. 

“Detention??” Bow questions, display of worry on his face. 

“With Catra!” Glimmer chimes in, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Bow seems even more confused than before. 

“Yeah so, _that_ was unrelated. Sort of. She was also running late but, I don’t know why.” Adora says offhandedly. She shovels some potato salad in her mouth, forgetting that she’s still trying to talk. 

“I jushht don't really know whatff her deal ishh?” Adora says while rolling her eyes, her mouth now barely containing the contents of her lunch. Bow and Glimmer exchange a look. 

“Are you guys...still close? Like at all?” Bow asks tentatively. 

“No, I haven’t really spoken to her in years. Honestly, I don't really talk to any Slytherin people unless I _have_ to.” Adora says with a groan. She knows it's not very ‘diplomatic’ of her as Head Girl but she can't help that her immediate reaction to seeing any Slytherin, especially any the Quidditch players, is a volatile jab. She's glad she doesn’t have any classes with Prime this year, otherwise she’s not sure if she would’ve made it through the first week without throwing hands. 

“Well you don’t have to talk to them, you just have to beat them in Quidditch. A quasi, non-verbal confrontation.” Glimmer says, trying to turn the conversation back to their upcoming weekend plans. A huge grin spreads across Adora’s face, and this time her heart rate picks up in a good way. She thinks about how much the team had improved since last year, and how as Captain she finally got to implement new formations that actually worked. Instead of ones that had almost gotten her impaled. It had taken a moment of adjustment, along with a few days of complaining, but eventually everyone had gotten on board with Adora’s new plan of attack. Adora’s leaning over her plate, chewing her chicken sandwich and dreaming about Quidditch when Bow’s question catches her off guard. 

“Actually, did you hear that Catra came up with their current strategy this year?” He says in disbelief. 

Adora nearly chokes on her bread. 

Her abrupt coughing fit has the whole table staring at her, and Glimmer hands her some water with a look of pity. Adora hates when Glimmer looks at her like that, because she knows exactly what she's trying to say. 

“Okay first of all-” Adora takes a sip of her water, trying to clear her throat from any remaining bread before finishing her sentence. “Nothing happened between us, so Glimmer stop giving me your ‘judgy’ eyes.”

“I do not have ‘judgy’ eyes.” Glimmer says indignantly, but Adora ignores her. 

“Second,” Adora continues, “Why the hell did Prime put her in charge of that? Is not like shes-” 

“-She's first string.” Bow and Glimmer finish Adora’s sentence at the same time, matter-of-factly. 

Adora’s not sure if she's more shocked at the statement itself, or their remarkable timing. Every once in a while it's like the two of them have this weird telekinesis, and Adora thinks she will never get on that level with someone. Actually, she thinks she will never get on that level _again_ with someone. She used to have something pretty close to that with Catra, back when there was still a gap between her teeth and Catra was almost two inches taller than her. 

Back when the world was simpler, and all Adora had to worry about was scaring away the monsters that hid in the small cupboard under the stairs. The foster home wasn’t very big, and Adora used to find strange cabinets and crevices all over the house and imagine they were the evil enemies for their games, since there wasn’t much else to do. Adora had been at the foster home before Catra, arriving as a small infant and not knowing much about her birth family besides that her parents had died in a freak accident on the highway. Adora figured this out based on context clues, from the people in suits who came to check up on her with their big binders and squeaky shoes. And, from the hushed comments spoken between her foster parents late at night. Often, standing in the glow of the kitchen with their backs turned, not thinking about the tiny ears that could be listening. Tragic, horrible, and shocking were also words used by others to describe her situation, so much so that Adora thought it was normal to talk about family like that. For the most part, all Adora remembers is the clear distinction between the dull days before Catra, and the vibrant ones after.

But Catra’s situation was different. 

She had entered into the system when she was about six years old. Old enough to remember her birth family, and some of the early memories of her chaotic childhood. From what Adora can recall, Catra’s parents were not together and it was mostly just Catra and her mom for their last few years. She’s not sure why Catra’s mom was no longer in the picture, and Catra never talked about it that much, but Adora knew they were close. She knew there were phrases that Catra would say that definitely did not come from anyone within the foster home, and that Catra would call out for her mom some nights, while everyone was fast asleep. 

Adora also remembers the pin. 

Adora had been sitting on the couch, eating a popsicle that was slowly melting its way down her hand the day Catra had arrived. She remembers this because when she saw another girl her age standing in the hallway by the door, she immediately jumped up and ran towards her, throwing the popsicle aside which left a permanent stain on the carpet after. She flew down the hallway with reckless abandon, and Catra obviously had not seen her coming because Adora nearly crashed into the other small girl. Her foster mom, Mrs. Etheria, also had to jump out of the way to avoid the collision. 

“Adora! Sweetie, slow down. We don’t want to scare Catrina away on her first day.” Mrs. Etheria had said, placing a gentle hand on Catra’s back. She stood there with a cautious demeanor, her curls wild on her head and wearing a shirt that was slightly too big for her. Catra seemed very surprised at the abrupt introduction, but Adora hardly took notice. 

“Hi! I’m Adora, I live here.” Adora said, reaching out a sticky hand with popsicle juice still on it. 

Mrs. Etheria had laughed at that, but Catra just stared at Adora and clutched her small bag a little tighter. 

“Adora, why don't you go into my office and grab Catra a name tag for her things?” Mrs. Etheria suggested, and Adora happily turned around to head back down the hall. 

She usually wasn’t allowed in the office, and it gave her a thrill knowing that she got to be in charge of the name tags this time. Adora turned the brass knob and heaved, pushing the large door open and blinked a few times to adjust to the brightness around her. Adora took in the room, which at the time seemed huge to her but in reality was probably no bigger than the small bathroom in the house. There was a large wooden desk in the center that took up most of the room, with two tall windows behind it framing either side. The rest of the room was lined with shelves, holding multitudes of binders, boxes, and paperwork. She walked over to one of the lower shelves where she had seen Mrs. Etheria put the plastic name tags and grabbed a handful of them from the glass bowl, since she wasn’t sure how many Catra would need. She was about to walk away from the shelves, when suddenly a golden shimmer caught her eye. She saw that it was coming from a box on the floor, laying just behind the desk. The box was packed with a bunch of other miscellaneous objects, but all Adora noticed was the small pin that was reflecting gold rays from the sunlight flooding above it. Adora had never seen this box before, but it looked very similar to the other boxes up on the top shelves that were collecting dust. As she got closer, she saw that there was some other paperwork laying on top of the box too. Adora couldn’t understand most of it because it was in cursive, but she did recognize the name printed on the top in bold, black ink that read ‘Catra M. Cortez.’ 

Adora realized that the items in the box were probably things that once belonged to Catra’s family and came in with her when she arrived at the home. She also knew that Mrs. Etheria kept these boxed items in her office for “safekeeping,” until many of the kids were much older. She felt bad knowing that the beautiful pin would sit up on that old shelf collecting dust, so in a split second decision Adora grabbed the pin and stashed it in her pocket. She then ran out of the room, leaving the door open behind her and made her way back to the living room. But, all she found were some of the older kids who looked annoyed that she had disturbed their video games. 

She scanned the room for a moment, and then heard a _creak_ coming from upstairs. 

She turned on her heels and bolted up the stairs, climbing them two at a time. She made her way into her own bedroom where she had heard familiar voices, and saw Mrs. Etheria showing Catra how to get up on top of the bunk bed, where she would be sleeping for the remainder of her time at the home. Adora smiled excitedly, realizing she would finally have a roommate to keep her company. 

“Here, I got a bunch.” Adora said, holding out the handful of name tags to Mrs. Etheria, that were now slightly crumpled in her small fist. She delicately took them from Adora with a soft smile, and placed them on the small bedside table for Catra, along with a pen. 

“Thank you Adora, I will let Catra write her name on her things and then you two can get to know each other a bit before dinner.” She walked out of the room, and gave Adora a quick wink before she left. The room was very quiet as Catra sat on the edge of the bottom bunk, not sure what to do with herself. Adora kept a smile on her face waiting for Catra to say something, but nothing came out. Adora decided to take the initiative once again, asking Catra the first thing that came to her mind. 

“Your middle name starts with an M right?” Adora asked, breaking the silence. 

“What?” Catra finally said. 

“I saw it on the papers. The ones they filled out for you.” Adora clarified, as if it was common knowledge. 

Catra avoided eye contact, opting to stare at the wooden floor panels instead. Adora tried again.

“So….what's the M for?” Adora asked once more, persistently. Catra was quiet for a while, and Adora wasn’t sure if she would ever respond. Then in a small voice, she answered. 

“Marisol.” Catra said. 

“That's so pretty! I don't have a middle name, so sometimes I like to come up with names for what it could be.” Adora said excitedly. She didn’t wait for Catra to respond to keep talking. 

“Right now it's applesauce.” Adora explained, _very_ seriously. 

Catra laughed for the first time, and Adora felt her chest get instantly lighter. A smile broke out wide across her face, and Adora found herself matching it. 

“That's not a middle name, that's a snack.” Catra replied, giggling at Adora. 

“It can be both!” 

“No it can’t.” 

This stumped Adora, who had never realized there was a distinction. She didn’t know what to say back, so she sat down on the floor instead. When she crossed her ankles she felt the small pin poke against her leg from the front pocket, and she remembered the real reason why she had come up here. She stood up again, reaching into her pocket to pull out the pin and held its small frame between her two fingers. 

“Um, I think this is yours?” Adora said, walking over to Catra. 

Catra furrowed her brow, unsure what Adora was holding until she got closer. Her eyes widened when she saw the beautiful gold square in Adora’s hand, and studied it carefully for a moment. 

“What is it?” Catra asked, clearly not recognizing it. 

“Its a pin, I think? You can put it on your clothes or other stuff. It's also sharp.” Adora said, sounding like she was reciting a definition. Catra took the pin from Adora, holding it in her palm face up. 

“I found it in the office...with your things.” Adora explained, getting shy herself. 

“Was it my Moms?” Catra asked, and her shoulders had dropped at the mention of her family. 

Adora blinked, and thought for a moment of how to respond. 

She didn’t know if it had been from Catra’s Mom. She barely knew that the box was Catra’s in this first place if it hadn’t been for the papers on top. All she knew was that she saw the shiny pin in the box, and that it was very pretty, also like Catra. Adora had thought that giving it to her might help cheer her up, but it may have actually had the opposite effect. Panicking, Adora responded without thinking. 

“Yeah um, it was your Moms. She wanted you to have it.” She said, unsure of her words. 

Relief washed over Catra’s face, and a slight smile returned. Adora thinks she made the right decision, even if it was technically a white lie. Catra turned to look at her, and it was the first time Adora noticed that she has two different colored eyes. She couldn’t help but stare in amazement. 

“Thanks.” 

It's all Catra said, but she took Adora’s free hand and squeezed it. Adora responded to her with a big, toothy grin and knew that from that moment on, her time at the home would be forever different. 

And it was. 

She and Catra were practically inseparable for years. They would do chores together, stay up watching movies with the other kids, tackle each other in the hallway. Those parts came easy. 

However other parts, not so much. 

It wasn’t until Adora was about nine or so that she started to notice strange things happening around her. Even stranger than the dark cupboards around the house. She would see objects fly across the room without anyone touching them, and doors would close behind her as she left the room. Once, she even saw a brand new birthday cake that Mrs. Etheria had just pulled out of the oven, start hovering a few feet in the air before flipping itself over and falling on the linoleum floor. That one hadn’t gone over easy, and nobody had believed Adora when she said it wasn’t her fault. Nobody except for Catra, who didn’t really understand what Adora was going through but knew Adora wouldn’t lie about things like that. It wasn’t until a few years later that Adora realized why it was happening. 

It was right after her tenth birthday.

It was the weekend, and normally Adora would have joined Catra at the park down the street, but she stayed behind to finish up a few of her homework assignments. Catra opted to stay with her until she finished, but Adora assured her that it wouldn’t take very long, and that she should go on ahead to save a spot at their favorite bench. Catra had left reluctantly, but not before giving Adora an elbow to the rib. It was a sentimental gesture, coming from her. 

Adora had heard a knock at the door from upstairs, and had wandered down assuming it was Catra who had forgotten something. Normally Mrs. Etheria would get the door, but she was out of town for the day and had left Rogelio in charge. But even he seemed to be elsewhere too, so Adora opened the door without asking who it was, and shockingly surprised. Adora found herself staring up at a woman who seemed to be about six feet tall, wearing a shimmering, iridescent robe that flowed right off her shoulders and down past her feet. It looked like a real life waterfall. Not that Adora had ever seen one in person before, but she thought that this lady’s outfit was pretty spot on to the pictures in the magazines. She also had long, strawberry blonde hair that was being precisely held over the back of her shoulders, and her eyes held a warmth to them that made Adora feel secure. 

“Oh hello! My name is Angella, I’m a close friend of Mrs. Etheria’s and I was wondering if she is around? I was meaning to come by tomorrow, but there was a change of plans and I couldn’t seem to get a hold of her. ” The woman said with a posh accent that Adora had never heard before. 

“No, she’s out of town.” Adora cautiously replied, unsure why this elegant-supposed-friend of Mrs. Etheria was here in the first place. 

“Oh that’s alright, I can wait.” Angella said, smiling patiently. 

Adora had no idea what that meant, and she certainly wasn’t going to just let a stranger waltz right into the home. Even if she looked like a fairy godmother, Adora knew better than that. Although Mrs. Etheria had mentioned something to Adora about a meeting tomorrow, and that she had a surprise for her, she wasn’t sure if it had anything to do with the stranger standing on her porch. Adora eyed her up and down once more, feeling awkward to just close the door on her, but finally decided it would be best until someone with more authority came back home. 

“You can wait on the porch swing if you want.” Adora quickly said, before closing the door in a rush. 

She heard the woman chuckle to herself from outside, and Adora watched her move towards swing through the front windows. Every step this woman took seemed to be effortless, like she was gliding across the air. Adora felt like she was watching someone in a dream, and normally her instincts would be screaming at her about stranger danger, but for some reason she felt mostly at ease. Adora was staring at her through the windows so intensely, that the woman turned her head and looked at her back, trying to communicate something. Her words were muffled through the window panes, so Adora moved to open one of them just an inch. 

“What?” Adora asked.

“I said you have a lovely home.” Angella repeated. Adora snorted at the false flattery. As much as she loved her foster home, ‘lovely’ wasn’t the first word that came to mind. But Mrs. Etheria did have a large garden in the front that she tended to regularly, so that was probably what she was referring to. 

“Thank you.” Adora wasn’t sure what else to say, and she was trying her best not to be rude. 

A few more minutes passed, and the woman tilted her head slightly as she looked over at Adora again. There was a distinct twinkle in her eyes. 

“Do you happen to know an Adora Grayskull that lives here? I did come to see Mrs. Etheria, but I actually have a letter to personally deliver.” She said, reaching into her bag that appeared at her side instantly, as if out of thin air. Adora rubbed her eyes slightly to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. The woman pulled out a square, tan colored envelope with an ornate red seal on the back. In precise black ink, Adora could see that the letter was clearly made out to her. 

Adora was stunned that this woman not only knew that she lived here, but was actually trying to personally deliver something to her. 

She still didn’t quite trust her though, and she didn’t feel confident enough to reveal her identity. 

“Yeah I do but….she’s not here right now.” Adora lied, not looking the woman in the eyes. 

The woman sighed, and glanced at Adora through the window. She kept a kind smile on her face, but she also wore an expression as if she knew Adora wasn’t telling the truth. Either way, she didn’t mention it. She placed the letter next to her on the bench, and began to rise. 

“Alright well, I think I will be going since I have a daughter of mine waiting at home, who I promised I would take to the lakes. I will try to come back tomorrow to speak with Mrs. Etheria once more. But if you _just so happen_ to see Adora, will you make sure it gets to her, please?” She asked her knowingly, and gave Adora a final wink before she stood up and made her way down the front steps. Now more curious than ever, Adora moved back towards the door to get a final look at the woman. But as soon as she opened it, the woman was nowhere to be seen. No car, or bike, anywhere to be found. 

She had just vanished. 

It was the most peculiar interaction Adora had ever had in her life. She was about to head back inside when she remembered the odd letter, that was gently placed right where the woman had been sitting. She walked over to the bench and picked it up, running her small fingers over the wax seal. It had a symbol on it that Adora had never seen before, and she figured it was going to be some fancy invitation to another one of those ‘ballet classes’ that Mrs. Etheria had tried to get her to join. 

She had never been more wrong in her life. 

The Hogwarts letter was only the beginning of the whirlwind of events that came afterwards. Angella returned the next day, like she promised. She spoke to Mrs. Etheria for a long time in her office, before they brought Adora into the conversation. They explained to Adora that she had come from magical parents, and that she had the opportunity to go to a new school to study witchcraft and wizardry, just like the letter had mentioned. Adora thought they were messing with her, and that it was all some elaborate prank to kick her out of the house. But Mrs. Etheria explained that was true, that she had been waiting to tell Adora for a long time. She also confirmed that it was the reason that all those “strange things” had been happening the past few years. Adora didn’t know how to begin to process everything. She didn’t even think it was possible that she was the reason that objects moved around her, let alone that she was born to be a witch. 

She didn’t want it to be true. 

She didn’t want to go to some far away school and study magic. She didn’t want to pack her things and temporarily stay with Angella. Not when everything she needed was right there upstairs in that small room, the one with only one bunk bed and a girl who held her entire heart between two calloused hands. 

Adora had tried to think of a way to avoid it, but it all seemed like it was out of her control. She was too young to know that these actions had already been set in motion long ago, with her parents death as the catalyst. Promises written into wills and trusts, and carried out by some of the most prominent people in the wizarding world. Looking back, Adora realized that she didn’t even stand a chance. 

What Adora had forgotten to mention though, was that she wasn’t the only one who showed signs of being a witch. Catra had begun to have odd things happen to her as well. Not as drastic as Adora’s, but enough to recognize that she could affect objects around her through her emotions. Often unintentionally, and her temper came to be a force to reckon with. Adora couldn’t recall the amount of times she’d had to pick up the books that flew off the shelf after Catra had stormed in on one of her ‘bad days.’ Yet even on the bad days, Adora wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else. 

She tried to relay that to Catra before she left, tried to tell her that she would be back as soon as she could, and she would write to her, and that if she found a bench in this far away place that she would always save her seat. That it wouldn’t matter how much distance was woven between them, because it wouldn’t change how Adora felt about her. She tried to convey all of this, but the second Angella walked through that door, Catra got a different message. The message that everything they had built, from chasing away monsters to telling secrets in the dark, to lifelong promises and kisses on shoulder blades, was all about to change. If Adora was the one who started the tear between them, Catra was the one who pulled the seams clear apart. She wouldn’t even speak to Adora the days leading up to her departure, and it made Adora sick to her stomach. Adora even thought that maybe writing her a letter would be better, but every time she tried the only thing she felt was _anger_. 

She was angry that she was leaving the one place that felt like home, she was angry that she wouldn’t be able to use a phone or email to connect with people back home, and most of all, she was angry that Catra was choosing their last few days together, to ignore her. In all honesty, Adora felt like she didn’t even deserve the letter. That’s how much her resentment had clouded her judgement, and it wasn’t until months later that she understood that. 

Sure, staying with Angella in upstate Bright Moon in that massive mansion, meeting Glimmer and Bow, and relearning the world she thought she knew had been exciting. But her new room was too empty and silent without the sounds of Catra sleeping beside her. 

That's when she felt the regret slipping in, only opening that corner of her heart at night when the moonlight shone through the satin drapes of her bedroom. That's when she would wish more than anything that she had just written the goddamn letter, even if it would've been filled with words of anger and hurt. She wished she had left Catra literally anything to say her final goodbye. Instead of some empty drawers, a stripped mattress, and a room full of tension. 

Over time, after the resentment melted into regret, and the regret to sorrow, and the sorrow to acceptance, Adora somehow found herself still standing. But more than that, she was still standing because of her two new friends who welcomed her without any hesitation. She became thrilled to start at Hogwarts, and Glimmer happily told her everything she needed to know about the school since Adora had basically grown up as a Muggle. 

When Adora first heard that word she burst out laughing. 

She found it so funny that anytime she didn’t understand something about the magical world, Glimmer and Bow would call it her ‘Muggle struggles,’ just to watch her lose it. In fact, most of her time at Bright Moon was filled with laughter. And warmth. And food that she could stuff her face with time and time again. She was worried that Hogwarts wouldn’t have the same dishes that Angella cooked, but they all reassured her that she would love the food just as much, if not more, at Hogwarts. She didn’t believe them, and Angella would always give her that wink to let her know she was on Adora’s side. 

Adora spent almost a year in Bright Moon before starting school. 

And not a single day passed that she didn’t think about Catra, in some capacity. 

She thought how she probably wouldn’t see her again for another year or so, and often relived the old memories that floated around in her mind. She went on like this, ignoring the ache that remained in her chest and put on a smile as she boarded the Hogwarts Express. 

Then, she saw her. 

Catra was standing in the aisle, trying to push a huge luggage bag into one of the empty compartments. 

Adora froze like she’d seen a ghost. Bow and Glimmer had no idea what was happening, since they had gone ahead of Adora to find the best compartment to sit in. Adora felt her chest go tight and her heart felt like it wasn’t going to last another five minutes with the way it began to race. She dropped everything she was carrying and without thinking about the people around her, ran towards Catra with everything she had. 

“Catra!” She couldn’t contain her urge to tackle her, and she threw her arms around Catra’s shoulders. Catra had been facing away from her when Adora bulldozed over to her, and she seemed stunned that a random person was trying to aggressively hug her in the middle of a train. 

“Hey! Can you-” She turned her face just enough to see who it was, then she lost her will for words. 

“A- Adora?” She seemed just as bewildered at the fact that Adora was standing there, on the train, and that it wasn’t some heavenly dream. 

“How did you get-”

“What are you-” They said at the same time. 

Adora laughed, beaming up at Catra. But the other girl's expression was...unreadable. Adora paused, too many unanswered questions left between them. Adora was just about ready to stand in the aisle all day and ask Catra about the past year, but she heard yelling behind her. 

“Hey first year! Can you grab your shit off the floor so the rest of us can sit down?” Some random boy called out from behind. 

“Oh sorry!” Adora said as she walked over to collect her things. She turned back to see that Catra had gone inside the compartment, and closed the door behind her. 

Adora waddled over the door, struggling to carry her things and tried to open the door with one hand. She barely got it open when she heard Catra mumble something. 

“What?” She asked. 

“Adora, what are you doing here?” Catra said. The words had a bit of bite to them, and Adora felt the ache in her chest return. 

“I’m going to Hogwarts, for school.” She replied. 

“Yeah dummy, obviously. I meant what are you doing in my compartment?” Catra clarified. 

“I wanted to talk to you for a bit...I...missed you. A lot.” She said, hesitantly. She still hadn’t moved out of the doorframe, but she didn’t dare try based on the glare that Catra was giving her. Catra turned away from her, not saying anything as she tried to lift her giant luggage up above into the overhead. 

“Do you need help with that?” Adora offered. 

“No.” She gritted out, still with her back to Adora. 

“Are you sure? It looks kind of heavy and I don’t want you to-” 

“Don’t want me to what? Get hurt? I can take care of myself without you. Just-” With one final grunt, she lifted it up over the bars, where it precariously hung halfway over the top. 

“Just, piss off Adora.” She finally let out. 

_Ouch._

It was straight to the point, but Adora hadn’t seen it coming. She could feel the corner of her eyes starting to sting, and she looked away to get ahold of herself before the tears could come. When she did, she saw Glimmer walking down the other end of the train, searching around and peeking through windows. She looked up and finally saw Adora, and she grinned. 

“Adora! What are you doing? We found seats over here!” She called out. 

Adora looked back to Catra one final time to try to say something. But Catra was turned away, looking out the windows at the busy platform with a distinct frown on her face. It took everything in Adora to close the door and walk away. But she heard the train whistle go off, and Glimmer was yelling at her again so she slammed the door and hurried down the rest of the aisle. Glimmer could tell that something was wrong the second Adora got closer to her, but she didn’t ask until they were safely in their compartment. That was the first time she ever talked about Catra to her friends, revealing their complex past and the utter pain she had felt having to leave her behind. 

Twice, now. 

Adora got so worked up talking about Catra that she began to cry, and once she began it was like she couldn’t stop. Bow and Glimmer had tried to calm her down, rubbing her back and reminding her to breathe, but it was like a year of pent up hurt, frustration, and regret that all came spilling out of her at once. Right onto her new robe, which she was using to wipe away the tears and some snot. It had felt like the longest train ride of her life. 

That wasn’t the last time she had talked to Catra, no there had been short interactions spoken during classes, when necessary. Each instance breaking Adora’s heart a little more, chipping away at the fond feeling and memories she used to hold until all she had left was broken nostalgia. It also didn’t help that they had gotten sorted into separate Houses, so she never really had the time to get Catra alone and just talk things out, like they used to back at the home. She knew Catra had made other friends, just as Adora had. She tried not to let that get to her, but a part of her wondered if they had something that Adora was missing. Something she couldn’t offer Catra anymore. In the beginning, it made her feel awful. 

Joining the Quidditch team had made things a lot better though. People began to recognize her in the halls, and Huntara had pushed her to start talking more to people she didn’t know, older and younger. That was the only way the team could function really, communication and unity across the grade years. Not to mention the confidence boost it gave her when she became top Seeker among the Houses. She loved the person she became both on and off the field, and _apparently_ so did a lot of other people. The Gryffindor’s nicknamed her She-Ra, after a well-known legend about the witch who was so fast and strong, she could take on opponents twice her size. Adora thought it was ridiculous, but she couldn’t deny the fact that it gave her an edge up on other players. Especially those, like herself, that were also trying out for professional teams at the end of the year. She knew she had very good chances though, based on her O.W.L. scores and her squeaky clean Quidditch record. Huntara had taught her that, to play smarter not harder and let the other team make fools of themselves by getting into ‘physical altercations.’The only thing that made her concerned though, was Prime. He had been held back a year because of his grades, and it had only worked in his favor since it gave him another chance to try to lead the Slytherins towards a House Cup title. Adora was counting on the Gryffindor’s to take the lead this year, as a final hurrah and as a way to leverage herself in her interviews with various pro teams. 

Like most days, her mind was brought back to Quidditch and the current task in front of her. She had been hoping that they wouldn’t play Slytherin right away because she had wanted to watch and analyze their strategy against other teams, before playing them herself. The schedule had other plans though, and Adora knew that this match would be the first of many brutal battles for the year. 

“Hey..? Adora! Hellooo? Oh my god guys I think we lost her for real this time.” She hears Memista’s voice echo in the distance, and it snaps her back to reality. She looks up and notices that everyone is looking at her. 

“What? ” She asks. 

“We were _talking_ about how Catra’s first string and you just got like, really quiet. Which is sus because you never shut up about Quidditch. What gives?” Memista points out, and everyone also seems to know that something is off. She doesn’t want to go into the very long, and painful, train of thoughts she just had. So she shrugs and finishes what's left on her plate before she responds. She quickly thinks about their strategy options, going through the best outcomes. 

“She's first string. Okay. Not something we accounted for but, we’re still going to play our game, not theirs. We can still run our formations, and just watch how she responds to the switch up in the beginning. Worst case scenario I can stay close and mark her up, and if the Snitch comes into play then I can probably outfly her.” Adora says all of this as if she's explaining how to tie shoes. Everyone nods in agreement, but Glimmer still eyes her suspiciously. 

Adora sighs knowing Glimmer will probably interrogate her later. Out of love and concern, of course. But Adora is tired of thinking about Catra, let alone talking about her again. 

“Okay, we should probably head to Charms in a few.” Bow says, dusting the crumbs off his hands and stacking his silverware, cup, and napkin all neatly on his plate. He’s way too considerate for his own good, and it makes Adora smile as she does the same to make the space as clean as possible for the elves. 

“Bow we all know you just want to get to charms early because Professor Castaspella worships you.” Mermista says sarcastically. 

“No, not entirely true. She’s also letting me pick the lesson, so I technically have to get there on time. Unlike some other people…” He says turning to eye Adora.

“Hey Bow, I’ll remember that the next time _you_ are trying to get some action and run late to class. I mean, if that day ever comes.” Adora retorts, and everyone laughs as they all get up from the benches. Bow rolls his eyes and goes quiet, and so does Glimmer for some reason. Her cheeks seem rosier than usual after the comment, but Adora just thinks it's because she stood up too fast. 

They make their way out of the Great Hall, but not before a group of Slytherins storm in, blocking their exit. One of them bumps into her and she turns to see an unforgettable pair of mismatched eyes. Catra stares at her for a moment, looking slightly worse for wear than this morning, if that was even possible. But there was no banter, or glare, or frown in her demeanor this time. Instead, she calmly walks away without a word, and keeps moving with the crowd heading towards the Slytherin table. 

Odd. 

Adora shakes her head at the brief interaction, feeling like she can’t seem to escape that girl today. She keeps walking with the others, getting a strange feeling inside her. One she hasn’t felt in a really long time. It feels like a shift. Like the planets are moving above her and all she can tell is by the uneasiness in her gut. Or maybe it’s just the fact that she inhaled her chicken sandwich. She prefers the latter. 

But she knows whatever is coming her way, it's going to happen soon. And if she doesn’t get her head together, she’s going to blow it for everyone. She refuses to let the thought of that take hold. So she wedges her way between Bow and Glimmer, and throws her arms around them. 

“Hey guys?” She asks, with a knowing smile on her face.

“Yeah?” They both ask. 

“I can’t _wait_ to kick some Slytherin ass.” She says proudly, and they laugh. 

I mean they got this, right? 


	4. (Quid)ditch the Attitude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, happy early v-day ;)
> 
> Its been a minute but the wait is over, the big match is finally here! This one goes out to the sporty gays and the jock gays, which I resonate a little too hard with. Also perspective changes mid-way through the chap, just a heads up. 
> 
> Thank you again for the support and feedback, its so sweet and I love hearing what you guys have to say about the chapters! 
> 
> You can thank my partner J for the chapter title, puns are always right up their alley. Find me on tumblr @jakesalright 
> 
> Enjoy!

Chapter 4: (Quid)ditch the Attitude 

_ One in….Two out...Three in...Four out...Five in... _

Catra was trying not to hyperventilate. 

The Saturday match had arrived so fast she didn’t even have time to process that a whole day had passed. Shit, she barely had time to process the fact that she had only nailed down her move about 3 hours ago, before she was marched into the locker rooms with all the other clones. She trudged behind them, hoping Scorpia would show up soon so she could at least talk to someone about the twisted knot in her stomach. 

Like the rest of the team, she followed in two, single-file lines down through the underneath of the stadium. She stared blankly at the back of the clones’ uniform heads, all brandishing clean buzz cuts from the night before. She snorted. 

They looked more like a military regime than a school Quidditch team. 

Catra could see the back of Prime’s head at the front of the line, and for a second she wondered just how many times he had walked this same, godforsaken passageway leading to their strategy room. As they got closer, Catra could hear the roar of a massive crowd of students waiting outside. 

_ One in…Two out...Three in...Four out...Five in... _

The mantra was on a rinse and repeat cycle in her head.

She remained quiet and didn’t look anyone in the eye as she laid her things down on one of the benches. She had already changed beforehand into a black synthetic long sleeve that clung tight to her figure, which was layered with the traditional green jersey and coat. She propped her broom up against the wall behind her, and noticed a few new scratches at its base from her quick practice this morning. 

Her broom had definitely seen better days, but she would rather go down in flames than ride anything else. Even if she got offered to try out one of the Nimbus Ten Thousand what-ever-the-fucks, she knew it would never compare. It was reliable, and it was her own. Each carving and nick on the exterior marked a small moment of triumph in her mind, mapping out her years of progress in a jagged history. 

She never thought she would get sentimental over a goddamn piece of wood and some bristles, but here she is. 

She looks away from her broom, and leans over her bag to put on her gear, trying to keep her nerves at bay. 

She didn’t think it was that obvious, but every time she reaches for a different piece of Quidditch gear she notices the slight tremble in her hand. She clenches it into a fist, rejecting the anxiety by pure force of will. 

“Woah, are we white-knuckling this match already?”

Catra whips around to see Scorpia standing behind her, looking at her clenched fists and clearly trying to lighten the atmosphere she had just walked into. 

“Dude where have you  _ been _ .” Catra sighs and gives Scorpia a quick hug, which Scorpia interprets as an invitation to turn it into a giant, bear hug. 

“Perfuma wanted me to walk her to her seat, and those stands were insane! I got all turned around and ended up way on the other side. It wasn’t until I saw one of the Gryffindor players pass by that I realized where I was, which was definitely  _ not _ the right side of the arena.” Scorpia explains in a rush. 

Catra awkwardly laughs, her cheek still squished up against Scorpia’s shoulder. She notices a few looks getting thrown their way by two of the clones, and taps on Scorpia’s shoulder to tell her to let go. 

Scorpia releases her after a moment, and Catra feels her nerves briefly subside. Despite her energy, Scorpia had an odd way of calming her down. It was like their two forms of crazy cancelled each other out. 

“Wildcat you’re on edge, I could literally feel it through that hug.” Scorpia loudly tosses her bag down next to her, not realizing how much her booming voice carries throughout the room. 

“Hey yeah, super observant Scorp!” Catra says sarcastically, sliding on the last of her gear. 

“Also, can you maybe  _ not _ try to yell out my problems to the entire team the second you get here?” Her voice was an octave higher than usual, but there was no anger behind her words. 

Scorpia looks over her again, taking in her tense state. 

“...You look like you might be sick.” Scorpia notes, shaking her head at the thought, and putting on her own gear.

“Honestly I might.” 

“Did you nail it down?” Scorpia asks. Catra had told Scorpia about the move this morning, and she wasn’t sure how to admit she had just perfected it about an hour ago. 

“Barely.” 

“Well that's good right! Right? Please say yes.” Scorpia’s enthusiasm was hard to miss, and Catra wanted more than anything to agree with her. 

“Yeah...It’ll be fine.” She lies. It was far from the truth but she didn’t have time to make any further comments before Prime was calling everyone over for a team huddle. 

Catra grabs her broom from the wall and follows Scorpia over to where the other clones are standing around. Everyone was much taller than her, and if the game had been based on height alone, she wouldn’t have stood a chance. 

But what she lacked in height, she made up for in speed. 

Now  _ that  _ was right up her alley. Catra had almost everyone beat in that department, and she prayed that the match wouldn’t drag on because her technical skills could only hold up for so long, before her endurance would give out. She didn’t let it show though, and for most practices she could hold her own before Prime sent everyone home. But this wasn’t a practice, and this sure as hell wasn’t any old match. 

“Gather around now, I’m going to make this quick.” The sound of Prime’s voice makes the hairs on the back of Catra’s neck stand up. He scans the room, slowly making eye contact with every player. When his eyes land on her, they narrow just slightly. Catra finds herself holding her breath again. 

As captain, he stood out against the rest of the players. Not because of his long slicked back hair, or his deadly stare, or the way he puffed out his chest to make himself look bigger. No, he stood out because he knew his power, he knew precisely how to enact it and how to manipulate everyone around him. And that included refs. He knew he held the fate of everyone around him in his massive, ugly palm. Which was wrapped around the shaft of his broom that was just as tall as he was. 

He continues his speech with ease. 

“We all know this match is important, it is our moment to claim our victory against those who dare challenge us. I want to see our strength, which I have instilled in each and every one of you.” He pauses, looking around and taking in the deafening silence of the team, expecting a response. 

Everyone urgently nods, including Catra. 

“It is a moment to destroy the Gryffindors and drag that House Cup title out of their small, powerless hands. I don't care what it takes, we have to finish them. And their beloved ‘She-Ra.’ I don’t want her standing by the end of the match.” Prime ends the sentence like a death promise. 

Catra feels her stomach twist. 

She wants to win like anyone else, but destroy them? Or rather, destroy Adora? She’s unsure if that was ever on her agenda. She hates the Gryffindors as much as the next person, but a small part of her fears for Prime’s deliberate target on Adora’s back. She wouldn’t wish that on anyone. 

“Let’s go, grab your shit.” Prime turns away from the rest of them, heading towards the exit. 

Everyone hurries to grab their brooms, and they follow Prime out in two lines again towards the lower entrance to the pitch. Catra can feel her anxiety spreading from the pit of her stomach and moving like fire throughout her chest. It seems like she’s either going to throw up or shit herself. The thought actually makes her laugh out loud, and Scorpia glances over as they wait in the back of the lines. 

“There you go wildcat, let loose!” 

“Scorpia I was only laughing because I feel like I’m going to shit myself.”

“Dude you should...probably hold it.”

“Oh my god I’m not actually going to-” 

But Catra stops talking when she sees the large entrance doors opening up ahead, hearing the deafening cheers fill the hollow corridor they stand in. The sound of the crowd becomes white noise in the background to Catra’s racing thoughts. She mounts her broom, and she hears the announcer's voice ring through the rafters. 

“And the challengers, taking on the opening match for their second year in a row, Slytherin House!” The crowd loses it, somehow getting louder than before. 

Catra turns to give Scorpia a nod and small fist bump, before she kicks off the ground with the rest of the team and they fly out of the gates. 

The sun is blinding, and it coats the field in a bright glow overhead. She has to squint to see the arena, and she wishes she’d put on some sunscreen beforehand since there wasn’t a cloud in sight. It seemed as if almost every student and faculty was there to watch, and when Catra soars above the stadium and comes to a halt directly in the center of it all, she feels a light breeze hit her face. 

She takes another deep breath, and this time she actually feels herself settle into her skin. She flies over to her starting position, hovering slightly above her teammates, and checks out the Gryffindor set up. 

They have their two Chasers in the middle for the face off. And from what Catra can tell one of their Beaters, the one with pink hair, is also pushed up closer to the middle. It looks like they might try to storm the Quaffle right off the bat, knowing Prime’s track record of taking the face-offs alone. 

Catra isn’t too concerned though, the clones know how to work around a blitz and fix any unequal numbers. 

If Prime doesn’t get the Quaffle on the draw,  _ which is unlikely _ , they’ll just go into their ‘triple rush.’ Which is essentially just a mad dash where Prime and two other players attack the person on the other team with the Quaffle. 

And if Prime  _ does _ get the Quaffle on the draw, well...it's pretty much the same thing. They just go towards the goal instead. 

It's a slight risk only having one Beater stay back along with the Scorpia in goal, but they’re not usually on the defense so it should be fine.

As for Catra’s role in all of this, well she’s usually never started a match. But her directives from Prime were simple: get the Snitch, fly behind the clones for any cover if needed, and don’t fuck it up. 

She rolls her neck to either side, closing her eyes to block out the noise and brightness for a second. She can hear the announcer introducing the player lineups. She still has her eyes closed when she hears her own name being called out, and she smiles to herself upon hearing the crowd roar in anticipation. 

A moment later she feels, more than hears, the  _ whoosh _ of broom come up near her. She slowly opens her eyes and lets out a groan. A few feet away from her is Adora, who has determination etched into her expression like it was made for her face, and her face alone. 

She's lined up parallel to Catra, looking out towards the center for the draw and acting as if Catra’s not even there. Catra squeezes the handle of her broom, feeling her own intensity rise within her, and decides that maybe a target on Adora’s back  _ will _ be the best thing for this match. If Adora won’t even acknowledge Catra’s existence on the team, then Prime sure as hell will. 

Movement down below draws Catra’s attention back to the center. 

The referee walks out to the middle of the pitch and opens up the wooden ball crate, releasing the Bludgers first. They burst out of the box sporadically, and zoom off into the distance looking for their first targets. Catra knows that the Snitch will be released next, followed by the Quaffle last. 

The announcer reminds the crowd of the rules of Quidditch, and how the scoring system works since it's been a minute since their last match. Ten points for every Quaffle scored, one hundred and fifty points once someone captures the Snitch. Which by that point, is essentially game over. Players must play fair, and avoid rough housing and fouls. Otherwise, that's about it. 

_ Oh, and don’t get your ass swept by the Bludgers, _ Catra mentally adds. 

When Catra first started to play, Scorpia and her would go over the rules again and again until it all made sense. But it wasn’t just the rules themselves that confused her, it was the jargon all the players used. There were phrases and cues that went right over her head more times than the Snitch. She picked it up faster than she expected, just in time for her to be second string for _ a whole year. _

But now, she was going up against the school's top Seeker. Catra wishes she had someone besides Scorpia to tell this moment to. She thinks maybe she’ll write a letter to Ms. Etheria, since it's been a minute since they’ve spoken. She exhales, her attention elsewhere. 

“And the Golden Snitch is released!” The announcer yells out feverishly. 

Catra’s head snaps up. She backs away just in time to see a gold flash whizzing right past her head and out of sight, before the Quaffle is released into the air for the draw. 

Which is the most chaotic thing she has ever witnessed. 

The Gryffindors had stormed the face-off, like she predicted. Except instead of going for the Quaffle, the two Gryffindor Chasers charged directly towards Prime. Meanwhile, their Beater knocked the Quaffle back towards the Gryffindor side for an easy possession. 

In a quick movement, Prime had swerved left to avoid getting knocked over by the Chasers. It took the clones a moment to recognize what had happened, but they ended up rushing in to try to make up for lost time. The Gryffindor Chasers must have assumed that Prime was going to dodge them, however their distraction had obviously worked. 

The Gryffindors were in possession of the Quaffle, and their Chasers had expertly whipped around from their ambush to snag the pass, right before the clones got there. 

Prime, recovering his balance, shouts to the clones to go after the Gryffindors like it was entirely their fault this occurred. 

Catra remains in the same spot, high above them watching it all unfold. The Snitch is nowhere to be seen, so she figures she should stay out of the way for the time being. She looks over at Adora, who had also decided to remain in place. 

Sort of. She’s edged closer to Catra since the start of the draw, and Catra can see her face more clearly. 

She’s pensive, her gaze unyielding as studies the movements of her team below. She looks slightly more relieved than at the beginning of the match, but there's still a crease in her brow that refuses to leave. 

She looks up, and scans around the field lazily as if it's just another average day for her. Her head is turned to the right when her eyes finally land on Catra. She smirks. 

“Looks like Prime’s lost his touch.” She taunts. 

Catra doesn’t say anything, but she can see Prime trailing behind the Gryffindor Chasers who are weaving in and out of their defense. She feels her heart rate pick up, but she remains as stoic as possible. She knows that Adora is just waiting for the opportunity to watch her to fall apart under the pressure. 

Thankfully Catra doesn’t need to reply to her comment though, because the Slytherins suddenly get back the possession of the Quaffle, and the announcer recalls the play to the rest of the stadium. 

Apparently one of Gryffindor Chasers had found a clear shot at the lower goal, but not before they were brutally body slammed by one of the clones coming in from the side. Their shot had veered off to the right, where Scorpia was able to quickly recover it and toss it over to Prime.

“Looks like his touch is doing just fine” Catra replies, not looking at Adora but allowing herself to grin. 

She can hear Adora grunt and mutter something under her breath, but Catra can’t seem to make it out due to the sounds rising from the crowd. She leans forward a bit to get a closer look at the field. 

She locates Prime flying along the right edge of the inner stadium ring, flanked by two clones in a triple formation. The Gryffindor Chasers are right on his heels, and gaining. 

Then, Catra hears an abrupt  _ smack  _ explode from the Gryffindor side near the goal post. The pink haired girl absolutely launches a rogue Bludger through the air, perfectly aiming it straight for Prime’s head. 

The crowd gasps as Prime makes a sudden jerking motion, dipping downward to avoid the Bludger by just an inch. He passes the Quaffle off to one of the clones on the right and flies up, just out of range for a moment. 

One of the Gryffindor Chasers, the one with the crop top, pushes right between the middle of the two clones who are passing the Quaffle back and forth. He takes a swipe at the air, but misjudges the speed of their tosses and misses his chance to steal away the ball. 

As if on cue, the clones pass the ball straight up into the air to Prime above them, and then ram into the Gryffindor boy on either side, sandwiching him in place. The Gryffindor Keeper, the one with the odd looking mustache, is frantically trying to decide which of the three goal posts to cover as the Slytherins barrel towards him. 

“Ohhhh no no, cmon….” Catra hears Adora say, right before Prime winds up and sends the Quaffle straight through the top goal post, slipping just past their keepers outstretched hands. 

The resounding  _ ding _ of a bell goes off noting the successful goal, and the crowd erupts in excitement. 

“First goal of the match goes to Slytherin House with an absolutely fantastic play by Prime, Wetherby, and Milden!” The announcer states. 

“Fucking finally.” Catra says sarcastically, but she can’t help the smile forming across her cheeks. 

She zooms over to the Slytherin side to see the celebration for a moment, and she makes eye contact with Scorpia. Scorpia has a ridiculous smile plastered on her face, and she's pumping her fist in the air. Catra throws her head back and chuckles, giving Scorpia a small shake of her fist back. 

The celebratory feeling doesn’t last long though, and Catra sees Scorpia’s expression quickly shift into something more pressing. She’s yelling and pointing over Catra’s shoulder, but Catra absolutely cannot understand what she's trying to say. 

She throws her head around to see what Scorpia is talking about, and she assumes that it's something to do with the fact that the Gryffindor Chasers are making their way towards them. This, doubled with the announcer highlighting the same thing, confuses Catra. 

_ Yeah... no shit they’re on the defensive now?  _

But then, in the very far edge of the field, she sees it. 

Well rather, she sees Adora flying in a disorganized fashion, body hunched over the broom and chasing a small golden object as it zig-zags across the field. 

_ Fucking hell.  _

Catra feels her stomach drop, and she rips herself around to sprint over to Adora. This was definitely not how she expected the beginning of the match to go. In fact, she knew she wasn’t supposed to get distracted by the game in any capacity. Her one job was to just look for the Snitch, and stay out of the way.

And... keep an eye on Adora. Which apparently she couldn’t do either. 

The announcer notices the commotion, and calls out to the crowd. “Looks like Grayskull has spotted the Snitch! This could be a quick game after all...but it looks like? Cortez! Cortez has spotted the Snitch as well, and is coming up fast.”

Honestly, Catra was hoping that nobody would notice her slip up. 

She knew there wasn’t that much time before Adora would capture the Snitch, and she also knew that meant there wasn’t that much time before Prime ripped her to shreds if they took the loss. 

The wind was coursing around her incredibly fast, blocking out the worried shouts from her teammates as she passed by. All she knew was that she needed to do something drastic, and  _ fast _ . 

She doesn’t even try to see where the Snitch is and instead dives straight for Adora. Who is now closer to the ground with her hand outstretched, inches away from securing the win. 

Catra tucks her head down into her shoulder and roughly slams into the other girl from above. She hears Adora let out a loud  _ oomf _ , clearly not expecting the attack, and the full force of the collision knocks them both to the ground in a flash.

The first thing Catra feels is Adora’s elbow promptly striking her in the temple, causing her vision to temporarily go out and a sharp ringing to appear in her ears. This was followed up by her limbs getting thrown in possibly every direction, getting tangled up with the brooms and Adora's own body as they both roll onto the grass. 

When everything comes to a stop, neither of them are quick to move. 

In the distance she hears the ref blow the whistle to pause the game. Catra tries to lift her head to see what’s happening but everything is swimming, and she can’t seem to focus on the blurry mess in front of her. She can feel another body below her starting to stir, and remembers who she took down with her in the process. 

Adora pushes herself up and coughs, trying to find her breath. 

She’s not entirely sure what just happened, and looks around to orient herself. She sees Catra lying on top of her broom, her head in her hands as she’s struggling to lean on one of her elbows. 

Adora turns and spots the ref flying in their direction, and most of the players by the Slytherin end are staring down at the two of them trying to access the damage. In the distance she sees Bow holding the Quaffle, clearly in a great position to score if play hadn’t stopped. 

Adora squints and swivels her head around in a last futile attempt to locate the Snitch, but she already knows it's far gone. She finally stands up, and hears Catra let out a groan below her. 

She can’t stop the fury that flows through her. 

Adora leans over and grabs Catra by the front of her jersey, easily picking her up from the ground. Catra’s eyes go wide at Adora’s sudden outburst. 

“What the  _ fuck _ was that Catra?” Adora grits out, hands bunched around the fabric and holding Catra close so she gets the message that Adora does  _ not  _ want to be fucked with today. 

“A Hail Mary attempt that clearly worked.” Catra teases back, but her voice comes out a little shaky. 

Being this close to her face, Adora can see a bruise forming under Catra’s eye and that her bottom lip is busted open. The sight of blood catches her attention, and Adora finds eyes drifting down towards Catra’s lips. 

It's brief, no longer than a few seconds, but Catra notices immediately. A slow grin spreads across her face, and Adora’s can feel her cheeks get warm at the implication of her reaction. 

Catra’s ability to fluster her, even in the midst of one of the most important Quidditch matches of her life, makes Adora’s head spin. But she sure as hell doesn’t have time to contemplate why, and she instead opts for the more familiar feeling of spite. 

“That was a dirty foul and you know it!” Adora exclaims, chest heaving with adrenaline. 

Adora’s still got her hovering a few inches off the ground, and Catra can barely keep her head up. Instead, she just responds to Adora’s accusation with a breathy laugh that rattles through her chest. Her body is practically limp against Adora’s grasp, but she doesn’t stop laughing at the situation. 

It drives Adora up the wall. 

“Woah, alright guys break it up. Hey! Grayskull, you hearing me? Put her down or I'm throwing you out.” The ref enters the scene, interrupting their staring match. 

But Adora doesn’t look away, and neither does Catra, who somehow keeps that smug look on her face even though she’s clearly in pain. She slowly opens her mouth to comment. 

“Oh hey ref, nice of you to join. And yeah, if you could tell Goliath over here to put me down one more time, I think it might actually register in that thick skull of theirs.” Catra says casually, rolling her head over towards the ref to make her point. She has to close her eyes from the sudden movement. 

Adora thinks Catra’s so delusional right now she might actually pass out, and a small bit of worry bubbles up deep within her, directing her emotions back towards semi-reasoning. So before the ref can physically intervene, Adora lets her go. She’s not sure why, but she sets her down gently, and Catra lets out a sigh as she collapses back to the ground on her knees. 

To be fair though, Adora has always been the one to restrain herself from getting physical when it comes to Quidditch. Not that she wouldn’t win in a fight, but more so for the sake of her record to uphold. Squeaky clean, no mistakes, and polished to perfection for recruiters. 

And as much as she wanted to punch that smirk right off Catra’s face, she reminds herself to be the leader that others expect to see, so she backs away from her without a word. 

Adora scoops up her broom and turns her back to them, trying to calm herself down. She’s got a massive grass stain covering her entire left side, and her elbow hurts like a bitch. She realizes it's probably where Catra’s head initially hit, and that she might actually be mildly concussed. 

She overhears the ref talking to Catra, assessing her state. 

“Cortez if you cannot stand, I’m going to have to send you to the hospital wing and call off the match.” 

“No I’m good. I just need a moment to uh... take in this... beautiful day.” Catra says while slowly getting up. 

“...And find my broom. Have you seen it?” Catra asks. 

“You’re standing on it.” The ref replies flatly. 

“Oh would you look at that...” Catra sounds almost amused. 

She’s trying to sound nonchalant, but Adora can tell she's struggling. 

“Either way, I’m still giving you a foul for endangering another player. Watch yourself for the rest of the match.” The refs says sternly, blowing the whistle again. 

Behind her, Adora can hear Catra grumble in response. 

_ Serves her right for bombing the Snitch like that _ . 

But then again, Adora’s somewhat relieved Catra’s still in the match. If the Gryffindors are going to win, she’s going to make sure they do it on their terms. Not from some pointless, Slytherin forfeit. 

She tightens the straps on her gear again, before mounting her broom and flying up to where Glimmer is. The crowd, which had previously fallen silent, now claps loudly and cheers at her reappearance. 

Glimmer looks relieved that Adora is alright, and gives her a reassuring smile. It reminds Adora to come back to the present, and focus on the game in front of her. 

Adora silently laughs and shakes her head a little, as if to say she has no idea what just happened. Glimmer gives her a pat on the back, before turning to the rest of their teammates. 

Adora hears booing start up from the Gryffindor stands, and she assumes Catra is back up in the air as well.

“Well it looks like despite the fall, both Seekers are okay! The Slytherins also earn the first foul of the game, but with the Gryffindors already in possession of the Quaffle no penalty is awarded, and play should resume as normal.” The announcer summarizes. 

Adora knows it will be the first of many fouls, and she's not wrong. 

About ten minutes later, Gryffindor ties up the game when Mermista nails the Slytherin lower post with a bullet of a throw. The whole team flies over to her in a rush, wrapping their arms around her for a quick celebration. The people in the stands begin stomping their feet, singing out some of the traditional Gryffindor chants, and Adora feels the rhythm return. 

Their next chance at goal, Mermista gets fouled directly by Prime trying to knock the Quaffle out from under her arm, nearly smacking her in the face. Her grips loosens on the Quaffle, which bobbles for a moment, before flying loose into the open air. 

Adora holds her breath. 

To their luck, Bow kept his positioning tight, trailing right behind Mermista in their double-attack formation. They had practiced this situation before, although it had been a while since they had worked on counter-attack defense. Bow clearly remembered the play though, as  he manages to catch the ball and safely tuck it under his arm. 

Adora feels a surge of pride knowing that those practices weren’t a waste of time after all. 

With the focus initially on Mermista though, the clones realize too late that Bow’s wide open, with a clear shot at goal. He flies up towards the Slytherin keeper at the top, but leans over at the last minute to throw the ball to just beneath her reach, into the lower post at the bottom. 

_ Ding!  _

The bell rings out, instantaneously setting off the crowd and suddenly everyone seems to be on their feet. The announcer calls out the score, twenty to ten, with Gryffindor leading. The Gryffindor stands blast loud horns in celebration, as if to announce the score once again. 

Prime has the Slytherins slightly crowded together near their goal, slowly flying backward while talking to them about some strategy. Adora can’t see his face, but it's probably contorted in that way that makes him look like he just ate about ten sour lemons. 

Adora’s smiles as she flies over to Bow to congratulate him. Glimmer comes up as well, trying to give him a brief side hug that turns awkward when neither of them can really reach each other. A blush creeps across Glimmer's face, and she laughs nervously. 

Adora looks between the two of them, but decides to ignore the interaction and ask about it later.

“Bow that recovery?? Beautiful.” Adora comments, giving him a quick high-five. 

“Thank you, thank you. Somebody has to be the backbone of the team.” He chuckles. He looks over at Mermista, who’s smiling mostly out of relief that the play went off successfully. 

“Plus, did you see the stuff they were trying up there? I wasn’t going to let them gang up on Mermista like that.” He says defensively. 

“Yeah agreed, keep that formation tight and I’m sure we can get another in.” Adora says, as she starts to turn around to fly back to her position. She ushers Glimmer and Bow back out to their spots as well since the Slytherins are starting to approach. 

“Oh! And Mermista?” Adora calls out as she flies above them.

“Yeah?” Mermista asks suspiciously. 

“Give em hell for that.” Adora smirks, and Mermista just laughs at her. 

Adora heads up to the top, scanning around to look for the Snitch again. She figured Catra would be up here as well, but surprisingly she is nowhere to be found. 

_ She’s probably getting chewed out by Prime like the rest of them.  _

Adora circles around the edge of the field, flying above the Hufflepuff stands who all cheer for her as she goes by. She scans the air, trying to concentrate enough to find the Snitch, but feels the throb in her elbow pick up. She’ll ice it after the match, hoping it's nothing serious and that it won’t get in the way of her practicing. 

She's flying with her head turned away when she’s nearly knocked out of the air by another player going in the other direction. She’s jostled but doesn’t lose her balance, luckily. She glances back and sees it was one of the clones, who sends her a menacing smile over his shoulder before heading back into the play. 

It was deliberate, and should’ve been a foul, but Adora knew the ref was too far out of reach to notice. In fact, the ref seemed to be entirely focused on the center of the field, where lots of commotion was building. 

Adora peers down and counts the Slytherins in play: one, two, three, four... _ five _ . 

An alarm goes off in her head; that is one Slytherin  _ too _ many. 

Adora flies closer to get a better sense of what's going on. After some back and forth for the Quaffle, the Slytherins seemed to have gotten a hold of the ball and were advancing towards goal, dodging a few Bludgers in the process. 

However, almost all their players were involved in this new formation, which was currently being split on either side of the field. On the right side was Prime with the Quaffle, followed up by two other clones, persistently heading towards the goal. 

And on the left side were two clones flying extremely together, using their bodies to shield what appeared to be...Catra? She was flying just slightly beneath them, eyes intently fixed in front of her on a sparkle of gold. 

Adora’s heart sinks. 

She looks frantically between the two impending situations, and decides at this point taking out Catra would be their best chance at keeping this game going. 

Adora zooms right over Prime, figuring the Gryffindor defense can handle that simple attack. Instead, she plunders towards the Snitch head on, storming directly towards the clones protecting Catra. She’s leaning forward as much as she can, approaching the Slytherin formation fast and pressing her body tight against the shaft of her broom. Her hair is slightly in her face but she quickly whips it out of the way, just in time to train her eyes on the Snitch. It’s stayed level for some time now, whizzing straight forward in a perfect position for the grab. 

All of a sudden, the clones harshly pull up and clear straight out of the formation from the top, leaving Catra on her own.

Everything after that happens almost in slow motion. 

The rapid sensation of the clones clearing out throws Adora off, and she ends up slightly slowing down. The movement also causes the Snitch to react and dip downward, and Adora recognizes that she doesn’t have enough time to adjust her angle to grab it, otherwise she might decapitate Catra in the process. 

She tries to pull up to avoid a collision, and as she does so she sees Catra flip her entire body upside down on her broom in one swift motion. She’s still dangling from the shaft with her hands free as Adora passes over her in the opposite direction, with less than an inch to spare. 

Adora’s jaw drops as Catra smoothly soars under her, extending her hand to pluck the Snitch right out of the air. 

The play is so fast that Adora’s not entirely sure what she just witnessed, and after she slows her momentum down she turns around to double check. Sure enough hovering a few away from her is Catra, now upright on her broom and looking down in awe at the golden Snitch in her hand. 

Adora feels like she's hallucinating. 

She can hear some yelling down at the Gryffindor end, but she just remains in place, staring at Catra. Unable to tear her eyes away, and unwilling to move her body lest she admit that the situation is real. 

Catra finally looks up, making brief eye contact with Adora before a massive grin spreads across her face, and she takes in the crowd’s response. Adora can see the spark in her eyes return for the first time in years. 

Still in shock, Adora shakes her head a bit and looks around the field. The announcer said something moments ago but Adora had blocked it out, along with the crescendo of cheers coming from the Slytherin stands.

She can see that the Slytherins are all starting to swarm their way, about to engulf them both in a celebratory dog pile. She feels a hand, more precisely Bow’s hand, tug on the back of her Jersey and start to drag her away from the Slytherins. 

“In an absolutely brilliant move, Cortez secures the Snitch for Slytherin House! Ending the match for a total of 20 to 160, and earning the Slytherins the first win of the year. It's a hard loss for Gryffindors, but this will not be the last of them for sure…” The announcer trails off, giving details about future matches and when they will be playing again. 

Adora couldn’t care less. 

She flies down from the air, landing on the Gryffindor side of the pitch and motioning with her arms to gather the team around. Everyone is dead silent, except for Seahawk who appears to be praising Mermista for her goal from earlier as they approach. 

“It's not like it mattered Seahawk! We still lost.” Mermista replies, grumpily. 

“Maybe true, however  _ I _ will never forget it.” He says emphatically. 

“Ahem..” Adora says, trying to get them to shut up. 

Bow nudges Seahawk to get him to pay attention, and he joins the rest of the team in the circle. 

“Look... it was a hard game. We expected that, and we played our asses off so I want everyone to be proud of that, because I sure am.” She looks around to take in their appearance.

Almost everyone is drenched in sweat, with the afternoon sun beating down on them for over an hour now. Adora can tell by the way most of them are leaning on their brooms that they will be nursing their injuries in the weeks to come. She registers the pain shooting from her elbow as proof of that as well. A few of them are still red in the face, probably from the last play, and their lips all look chapped from the wind. 

Except for Glimmer and Bow, everyone has their heads down looking at the ground in disappointment. Adora sighs and straightens her posture a bit. She can feel her guilt start to creep up, but she wants to get them off the field first before allowing herself to process that. 

“Hey you guys, heads up. We walk out of here with pride for the game we played, and we’ll discuss strategy later. Alright?” They all look at each other, then back to Adora, and nod their heads. 

“Alright let's head out.” Adora leads them out of the field and down beneath the stadium to the locker rooms. 

There's quiet chatter once inside, mostly about some of the plays in the beginning of the match from what Adora can tell. 

She goes over to her bag and slowly peels off her uniform which clings to her body from her own sweat. She doesn’t even want to know how badly she smells right now, and groans at the fact that she has to lug herself all the way up to the castle to get a shower in. 

She feels like she just ran a marathon, only she never crossed the finish line. The hours of practicing, prepping, and training put into the match only to have come out  _ without  _ a win, and for her quads to  _ still  _ be sore. It hits her on multiple levels, and she keeps her back to everyone while trying to ignore the lump forming in her throat. 

Adora takes her time putting her gear away and slowly changing into her fresh clothes. By the time she's done, everyone else has left the locker room. She plops herself down on the bench to tie her shoes, and when she finishes she takes a moment to appreciate the silence. Mind wandering to possible scenarios from the match, and one scenario in particular. 

She’s sitting on the bench staring at a crack in the floor, replaying Catra’s maneuver in her head, when Glimmer’s voice catches her off guard. 

“Hey...you okay?” She's standing by the doorway, bag over shoulder and a soft look on her face. 

“Yeah.” Adora says in a low voice. She avoids eye contact and keeps staring at the crack. 

“Liar.” Glimmer chuckles, and walks over to Adora. She doesn’t say anything else as she sits down, wrapping her arms around Adora’s large shoulders. 

“You shouldn't take this on all yourself you know?” Glimmer knows Adora tends to take their losses pretty hard, unnecessarily blaming herself for things beyond her control. Except this time it  _ was _ her fault they lost, and as much as she tries to fight it, all she feels is guilt. 

And frustration. 

She stands straight up, unexpectedly jumping out of Glimmer's embrace. She paces for a few moments, with her hands behind her head trying to calm herself down. 

Glimmer doesn’t say anything as she watches Adora move back and forth, waiting for her to respond. 

Of course she feels guilty for the loss, that’s to be expected given her role, but mostly she's just pissed. She’s mad Catra blocked her first chance at getting the Snitch, she’s mad her team got roughed up by Prime, she’s mad she got distracted and couldn’t stop the final Slytherin formation, and most importantly, she’s mad she didn’t come up with Catra’s move first. 

It was hands down one of the most impressive things Adora's seen in a while, and she’s top seeker. 

“Glim, I just...hate that they won the way that they did.” Adora finally looks over to Glimmer. 

“I mean yeah, it was bullshit” Glimmer comments. 

“It was.” Adora agrees. 

A silence falls over them. She’s still thinking over the last play though, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Glimmer recognizes the look on Adora’s face, and she grins knowingly. 

“You want to know how she did it, huh?” Glimmer asks, cocking one eyebrow. 

“I want to know so bad it's killing me.” Adora quickly admits, letting out a long breath and hunching over in exhaustion. 

“And here I thought you were wallowing in self-pity.” Glimmer jokes, standing up and giving Adora a gentle shove to her shoulder. 

“I actually was about ten minutes ago, so I’m really glad you didn’t have to see that.” Glimmer lets out a short laugh in response, and Adora grabs her bag to follow her out. She does a final sweep through the locker room to make sure nothing got left behind, before closing the door. 

“So what’s the plan now?” Glimmer asks as they walk out into the quiet hallway, now clear from any students. 

“Beat her at her own game I guess.” Adora shrugs, fixing her hair and pulling it up into a ponytail. 

“Might as well just ask her how she did it.” Glimmer says sarcastically. 

Adora doesn’t say anything, but a light bulb goes off in her head. 

“Adora no, I was joking, please don’t do that.” Glimmer urges her, placing a hand on her arm. 

“I wasn’t going to!” 

“Liarrrrr. You have no shame.” Glimmer sing-songs. 

“I mean we have detention together tomorrow…” Adora recalls, and the thought of Weaver’s punishment makes her head hurt a bit. 

“So what? You’re just going to walk up and be like ‘Hey Catra, I know we hate each other but I was just wondering, how’d you catch the Snitch like that? Also, I’m super jealous of the way you play and I would love to get your num-” Glimmer’s teasing comes to a halt as Adora surges forward and grabs the back of her legs, throwing the smaller girl over her shoulder. 

“Wha-! Hey Adora!” Glimmer screams but Adora just laughs, keeping her held in that position. 

“You know what Glimmer, maybe I  _ will  _ ask her that. Just to get you to stop your incessant meddling.” Adora says smugly, still casually walking with Glimmer over her shoulder. She would keep her like that for longer to prove her point, but her limbs are pretty wiped from the day so she puts her down. 

“Is it fun? Throwing your friends around like a rag doll? Genuinely curious.” Glimmer says once her feet are back on the ground, clearly annoyed. Adora laughs at her again. 

“If I say yes you’re going to get mad at me, and if I say no you’ll call me a liar again. So I rest my case.” Adora heaves her bag up again on her shoulder. They're almost at the end of the dirt path leading back to the castle, and all she can think about is how desperately she needs hot shower and a three hour nap. 

“Seriously Adora, don’t do anything stupid tomorrow. We need you on the field, not in the trophy room cleaning shit.” Glimmer sounds weary, and Adora just pats the top of her head. 

“I won't, I swear.” She holds up her pinky finger, and Glimmer takes it as a promise. 

“I only half believe you.” She reluctantly sighs, and they both climb the steps into the castle. There's a few students roaming the halls, some still decked out in fan gear from the match. Adora looks away, not wanting to be seen by any of them right now. 

“C’mon let's go find Bow, I gotta see if he can help me get these grass stains out of my jersey.” Adora suggests, and they head in the direction of their common room. 

She knows Glimmer’s right, and that as much as she wanted to know how Catra landed that maneuver, it's going to take a lot more than just outright asking her. Not that Catra would even be willing to tell her in the first place, based on the countless glares Adora’s received from her. 

But there was something about it that struck an unmistakable chord in Adora. And knowing it would probably keep her up at night, she was damn sure she would get to the bottom of it. 

Even if that meant...trying to mend things with Catra. 

Adora shivers thinking about tomorrow, the fact that she’ll be stuck in a room with her for multiple, boring, agonizing hours. Maybe it will be a good thing for them. 

Maybe. 

Probably not. 


	5. Trophy Troubles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, hope your weeks are going well! I for one have been thrown entirely off my sleep schedule but thats to be expected. 
> 
> Anyways, we're picking up where we left off and starting with Catra's POV (It stays like that for the entire chapter btw)
> 
> I also wanted to touch on something thats been stirring around in my head recently, and now more than ever with the news about the new HP video game including trans characters. I'm aware of the hurtful and harmful words and actions that JK R*wling has done against the community, and I don't want this story to reflect those views in anyway. I want this to be a trans/queer positive story and place, and as much as I love the Hogwarts setting, I know the HP franchise has pretty much ignored those issues. 
> 
> As someone who is non-binary I want to include that perspective into the story, and change some of those narratives through spop characters I love (I will soon bring up the topic of Adora's pronouns do not worry!). But that being said, if you feel uncomfortable in any capacity with it I completely understand and please do not hesitate to let me know! 
> 
> /tldr: this story has no room for transphobia!!! 
> 
> Anyways, sorry for the rant, please enjoy this long ass chapter update.

Chapter 5: Trophy Troubles 

For about a day and a half after the match, Catra could barely walk. 

She had been waddling really, and she was pretty sure that she’d pulled something in her hip flexor because every time she sat up in bed it felt like someone was stabbing her pelvis with a knife. 

Also, a fun new thing she’d learned, was that she could only sleep on one side of her body because of the lovely shiner under eye, which made half her face throb. 

_ No wonder the last Seeker quit. _

She shuffled around in her room to grab her school supplies, and dragged the dark wooden chair from the far corner, over to desk. She slowly lowered herself down to start on the homework she had been putting off, yet her attempts were futile. 

She winced every time she had to sit up in her chair to reach for either more parchment or ink. So much so, that Scorpia insisted that she pause and take a nap. 

Catra merely scoffed in response. Yeah, there was no way she was going to  _ nap _ on a  _ Sunday _ . 

The stacks of homework on her desk would testify to that. That, along with the pristine Head Girl pin that lay at the top of her desk, which glinted in the early light pouring from the window. Some saw it as an award, some an honor, and others a token of intellect. But Catra saw it as a reminder of her duties, precisely placing it there so that every time she looked up from her studies she would remember why she was bending over backwards. 

Still, sometimes it wasn’t enough. 

_ Your work in class is desperate at best,  _ Weavers words from the other day play through her head. 

_ Just because you are Head Girl does not mean you can get away with such poor performance. Academics should be your top priority, especially if you want to be a professor like myself someday. _

The conversation had made her blood boil, and it took everything in her at the time to not tell Weaver to go screw herself. She most certainly was  _ not  _ under-performing in Potions, especially when she was the only one who could work out the correct measurements for the most difficult elixirs assigned. 

She’s not entirely sure why Weaver outright said this to her though. Maybe it was because there were no students around after class, and her words wouldn’t be overheard? Maybe it was because Weaver got off on the idea of tearing down students in order to fulfill her need for control? Or maybe, possibly, Weaver pushed her so far because no one else could fill the shoes. No one else could take the blows, and put up with the verbal ridicule behind the scenes, like Catra could. 

Catra figures she was just lucky that way, being chosen to bear the weight so no one else had to. Although the decision for that was thrust upon her early on, with Weaver singling her out and often projecting shit onto her about ninety percent of the time. 

But more importantly, Catra hated that Weaver assumed her career on her behalf. 

Catra wouldn’t be caught dead wasting her ‘potential’ in a position similar to Weavers. Sure she could do Potions with her eyes closed, despite what Weaver claims, but she would never want to teach a bunch of obnoxious teens who would probably resent her at the end of the day. 

Also, the air flow in the classrooms around Hogwarts were atrocious, and she wouldn’t want to get stuck working in that. Sometimes, Catra swears it smelled like a hint of wet dog. 

Regardless of classroom conditions though, she knew she most likely wanted to be an Auror, combining her agility and intelligence in a delicate balance to take down targets of the Ministry. 

When she was younger, Ms. Etheria had told her she might be good at that one day if she worked hard for it, and if there's anything Catra loves, it's a good challenge. 

At this moment, she did still want to keep her options open, accepting that the future could really take her anywhere,  _ except _ to Weavers classroom. All she knew for certain was that she couldn’t wait to flip Weaver off the second she graduated. She might even throw the Head Girl pin at her too, just for dramatic effect. 

The thought makes her smile. 

As she dreamt of leaving Weaver behind, she finished up a good portion of her work load. Later in the afternoon Scorpia had kindly brought her some food from the Great Hall, and told her to just rest in bed and try not to move as much as possible. Maybe go down to the hospital wing to get something for the pain, especially if she wanted to go to the team party later that night. 

She didn’t really know what to do, so she laid there, petting Melog who was curled around her knee caps. He would always do that, lay on Catra’s knees, unbothered by the fact that it was probably the most uncomfortable place to sleep in the entire room. It was so weird. 

She was obsessed with him. 

Catra tried to continue her work in bed, but it was hard to do anything without disturbing Melog. 

So that's how she spent most of Sunday-- in bed, in pain, and missing out on celebrating the win with the team. Scorpia had offered to go walk over to the party with her, but she opted out. 

She wasn’t one to party much anyway, but a part of her wanted to show up and gloat just for the hell of it. 

Part of her wanted to walk right up to Prime, point a big ol’ finger right at him and say ‘I told you the play would work and you’re welcome I saved your ass yesterday.’ 

He’d probably give her another black eye just for directly speaking to him. 

By the time she finishes her assignments, Scorpia still isn’t back yet from the party so she decides to get ready for bed. She carefully gets up and heads to the window sill, the one lined with white candles of various heights and widths. 

“Incendio.” She mutters softly, pointing her wand to the tip of the wicks to light them one by one. 

They illuminate the corner of the dreary room in a warm, hazy glow. Catra looks up trying to peer out the window, but only sees her golden face reflected back in contrast to the dark night outside. 

She looks tired. Even through the distorted reflection she can tell that. 

She’s actually been enjoying the more rugged look on herself. Not that she has a choice in the matter, and recently it's been coming a lot easier to her. She hasn’t had time for her usual upkeep, but it hasn’t been all that bad. She turns around to melog, who's licking his paw. 

“Melog, do I look hot with a black eye?” She asks. 

He looks up for a moment, pausing to stare at her with his big, dilated eyes. He looks disinterested, and when he realizes Catra’s not going to give him a treat or attention, he goes back to his grooming. 

“I appreciate the honesty.” She moves towards her trunk at the end of her bed, and goes to pull out pajamas. She's got her back turned when Scorpia enters the room, slamming open the door and letting in a rush of cold air. 

“Catra!” 

Catra shifts on her knees to look over at Scorpia. She can tell by the way her cheeks have a rosy flush across them that she's a little tipsy. 

“Scorp, you’re letting all the cold air in.” Catra responds, but Scorpia ignores her. 

“I wish you could’ve come tonight, one of the clones lost a bet and had to strip down and jump into the lake!” Scorpia remains in the doorway as she recalls the details, still not closing the door. 

“Idiots. Was it Wetherby? ” Catra laughs, rolling her eyes. 

“Yeah! How did you...know that?” 

“He seems like he would lose a bet. And like he would jump in a lake. He just has one of those faces, ya know?” She explains. 

This makes Scorpia laugh so loud that Catra’s afraid some of the other students are going to come out of their rooms and yell at them. She gets up and pushes Scorpia inside, finally closing the door to block the chilling breeze. 

“Aw did you light your candles?” Scorpia asks while moving into the room, noticing the flickering lights. 

“Yeah, I can’t tell if they make me feel more, or less, insane when I’m stuck inside all day.” Catra replies. 

“You know, you have to stop lighting candles and come out!” 

“I am out.” Catra laughs are her own dumb joke. 

She came out around her 5th year, to nobody’s surprise. DT had said they were waiting for her to say something since the day they met, based solely on her outfit and her astrology sign. 

Entrapta said she had noticed the way Catra looked at other girls when they were bored in Charms class, and how she would blush when previous Head Girls would say her name. So apparently she wasn’t sly at  _ all _ and her friends could read her like a children's book. 

The only person who was shocked by the news was Scorpia. 

Big smiles and bear hugs were the main response, which were better than a lack of support so Catra was grateful. She didn’t have to explain herself to any of them, and only once had she gotten a dirty comment about it from an older Slytherin. To which Scorpia and her had responded by putting slugs in his bag the next day, and he didn’t say much after that. 

“Okay wildcat that's not what I meant. But speaking of that, you need to get laid.” 

“Dude!” The blatant statement caught Catra off guard. 

“You literally told me that the other day!” 

“Thats not what I said at all, I said I hadn’t gotten off in ages because I’ve been  _ busy,  _ being fucking  _ seeker  _ that  _ you _ told me I should go for. And it's kind of hard with Weaver on my ass all the time, watching me like a hawk.” Catra says in defense. 

“You know...you wouldn’t be so tense and defensive if you just…”

“...Got laid, yeah I know! Lay off!” Catra laughs and throws her pillow at her. Scorpia dodges it and collapses onto her own bed. 

There truly isn’t anyone on Catra’s radar at the moment, as much as she might wish. There’s not even someone on her  _ mind _ . 

“That's not true though, is it?” Scorpia says suddenly. 

_ Oh shit she said that last part out loud.  _

“What are you talking about?” Catra asks her from across the room while blowing out her candles. 

“There’s really no one on your mind? Nobody? Not a single soul?” Scorpia teases as if she knows something. 

“Nope.”

“Not even a tall, athletic blonde who  _ you _ just played against in one of the best games I’ve ever seen?”

The implication of Scorpia’s words sends fire straight through her. Adora  _ had _ been on her mind, but only because there was no way around it. Everywhere Catra went, everything she did, every main topic of discussion had recently somehow included Adora. She didn’t know what to do about it, and she knew she was only going to interact with Adora more, now that the Gryffindor’s decided Catra was more of a villain than Prime. 

It caused a strange, unsettling feeling to stir within her. She remembers Adora's face staring back at her after she caught the Snitch. 

It was pure disbelief, and it was fucking amazing. 

But dealing with the aftermath of the game, the tension and uncertainty of where she stood with not only Adora but the whole Gryffindor team, and the school at large, that made her nervous as hell. She tries to shake off the thoughts that are rushing in by getting under the thick comforter of her bed, letting its weight peacefully ground her. She sighs, feeling the exhaustion all the way to her achy joints and bones. 

“The only thing I’m thinking about is beating her again, just to see that stupid look on her face.” Catra finally says. 

“What stupid look?” Scorpia asks, but it sounds more like a half yawn then a sentence. 

“Never mind, just go to sleep. I don’t wanna have to drag you out of here in the morning.” Catra comments. 

Scorpia agrees, and for a few minutes the room is quiet between the two of them. 

“Oh don’t forget you have detention tomorrow...” Scorpia says half-awake. 

“ **FUCK.** ”

* * *

Catra’s not sure when she fell asleep, but she drifted off effortlessly. 

The night air was cool, and it glided through the small seams of the window panes. Despite hating the cold, it was necessary for her to sleep at night; it provided serenity and a cool respite to her constant restlessness. 

She also got pretty sweaty, so anytime she could sleep under the covers it was a miracle. 

When she wakes, the light from the window directly hits her face. She groans, and rolls over to shield herself from the blinding rays. She wasn’t used to waking up and seeing daylight, considering the past few weeks she’s gotten up earlier than the birds. 

She sits up, not noticing the lump at the end of the bed. Melog had wedged his way in between the covers at some point in the night, and Catra almost kicks him in the face when she tries to climb out of bed. 

Her hip is slightly better than yesterday, but that means she can now feel the full extent of her sore muscles. She stretches for a few minutes next to her bed, trying to relieve some of the pain and watches Melog shuffle under the sheets, before poking his head out. She gives him a scratch on the head while she closes her eyes, taking a deep breath in to try to center herself to face the day to come. 

Scorpia is still asleep, snoring loudly with half her body dangling off the bed. Catra rolls her eyes, thinking about the all times Scorpia has literally fallen out of bed and slammed into the floor in the middle of the night. After the fourth time -- they decided to push her bed against the wall. It had helped, to some degree, but Catra still found Scorpia in precarious positions in the morning. 

Catra quietly gets ready for the day, grabbing her robe and toiletries before heading out through the stone entrance of the common room. 

The one, and probably only, perk about being Head Girl: the bathrooms. 

Located on the fifth floor, they were only available to the Head students, other Prefects, and (unfortunately) the Quidditch captains. Since Catra had been waking up at the butt crack of dawn, she usually never saw any other students there and had the whole place to herself. Today, she's hoping it's still early enough to secure a shower stall and avoid any awkward interactions. She was not in the mood for any socialization or any kind. 

After climbing  _ way _ too many stairs, she arrives at the bathroom entrance and says the password to the stone statue to her right. The doors grind open and catra pushes through them, walking into the grandiose room. 

The floors and walls of the bathroom consist of white polished marble, so clean that Catra can see her reflection anywhere she turns. At the end of the large room sits an elegant bathtub carved out of solid stone that dips into the floor. Although most people prefer the showers, the bath is always there for anyone to use, and she can tell by the constant wisps of steam rising from the water that it's regularly kept warm. Above the bath, along the far wall, lie intricate sets of stained glass windows, depicting various settings and their mythical creatures. The windows fill the room with a kaleidoscope of colors, each beam refracting off the marble and covering the room in a spectacle of light. 

This is the height of luxury in her book. 

As she walks down a few steps into the room, she can see a few students getting ready by the sinks, and from what Catra can hear, there's nobody using the showers. She leisurely walks over to one of the stalls and sets her stuff down, when she hears a voice addressing her from behind. 

She turns around to find a tall Hufflepuff boy, who’s slightly younger than her, standing there smiling nervously.

“Sorry can I...help you?” Catra asks, while rubbing her eyes a bit. 

“Oh I just... wanted to say hi and tell you that I really enjoyed the match the other day.” The boy’s smile gets bigger as he awkwardly shifts on his feet. 

Catra’s unable to process any words at this hour, so she's unsure she heard him correctly. She squints, looking him up and down before slowly responding. 

“Uhh...thanks..?” Is all she says back, but the boy just keeps staring at her. 

“And I’m kind of a big fan,” He continues, encouraging the conversation along. 

Catra laughs out loud. 

There is _ no way _ some random Hufflepuff Prefect is a “fan” of hers, considering she's only played for like, one match so far. Also, since when did other Prefects even pay attention to Quidditch? Those nerds wouldn’t even have time to look up from their books to notice a Bludger heading straight towards them. 

Catra decides this is all too weird, and the boy looks slightly embarrassed after she just laughed right in his face. 

“Look, thanks for saying that. Really. But I bet you don’t even know my name, and by the looks of it, I’m sure that was the first match you’ve ever been to here.” 

The boy's eyes go wide and he noticeably blushes at her call out. 

“Also I don’t really have time to chat since I gotta get ready, so I’m just going to…um...” She steps back and quickly pulls the shower curtain between them, giving the boy the most obvious hint to leave her the fuck alone. 

“Okay well maybe I’ll see you...around? Sometime?” His voice wavers, but he still remains there standing beyond the curtain. 

“No you won’t.” Catra says in a very certain tone. 

He doesn’t respond after that. Then, Catra can see his feet finally back away from the edge of the curtain and leave. She lets out a sigh. 

_ What the fuck was that? _

She has never gotten complimented out of nowhere like that, in her entire life. It felt...forced. Like the poor boy was just going out on limb hoping she’d give him a chance, expecting her to eat that sweet talk crap right up.

She rolls her eyes. The last thing she wants is attention from Hufflepuff boys. 

But the situation was just outright strange. She knew that a lot of students were at the match, but she didn’t expect that people would recognize her overnight. Especially, enough to feel like they could come up and try to win her over. 

She thought she’d given off enough death glares throughout her time as Head Girl that no one would even attempt to approach her, even on a good day. She hopes that what just happened was a one time thing, because she’s not sure she could handle that all day long. 

She was wrong. 

Catra spends most of the day going through her usual activities. Escorting younger Slytherins through the halls, arriving early to her classes, eating lunch with her friends. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

Except that every single student seems to now notice her when she walks through the corridors, eyes trailing and whispers sneaking out. It's slightly overwhelming at first, and at one point she sees a clone walking in the other direction on her way to lunch. He makes eye contact her, and gives her an approving nod, like she’s one of them. 

The act is... kind of creepy, if she’s being honest. But on the other hand, she revels in the new attention. It's more than just attention though, it feels like...respect? 

She could get used to that. And she’s even beginning to enjoy it after lunch rolls around, but then the admirers start showing up. 

There's a Ravenclaw girl who tries to talk her up in the courtyard, a Slytherin boy in her year who offers to carry her books, and even a first year Hufflepuff girl that comments on the match after accidentally bumping into Catra while trying to get to the bathrooms. In each situation Catra doesn’t know how to respond, and mostly just says ‘thank you’ and walks away as quickly as possible. 

_ God, how does Adora do it.  _

The thought flies through her head without reservation, and it catches her off guard. Her situation is nowhere near the same as Adora’s, and even Prime was more likely a better comparison. But nonetheless, Adora was the first person Catra thought of. 

Catra can tell that the old parts of her brain, the ones that store childhood memories and some nostalgia from the past, are being tugged out just by Adora’s presence. Bypassing her instincts that tell her to run as far away as she possibly can; that revisiting the love and the loss and the pain isn’t worth it, and that those feelings should all remain long gone. 

Adora stands as a very obvious reminder that there are some things Catra just can’t escape, even if she tries all possible routes out. 

Every damn time she thinks maybe she can finally let go of the resentment inside her, move past it into a place of healing, Adora manages to pop right back into the picture. And this time, it's more than just Catra reading a story about the famous She-Ra in the school paper, or hearing the rumors about Adora’s love affairs, or even seeing her walk by in the halls. This time, Catra’s the one that seems to have burrowed deep under Adora’s skin. 

She thinks about how angry Adora got after she bombed the Snitch and took them both down. She had never seen Adora that pissed off ever, even during her Quidditch matches. 

But there was a hint of something else right after the match. Catra wouldn’t call it admiration persay, since Adora did seem upset at the loss, but it was pretty close to that. 

Catra has no idea what to make of all of it, so she resolves to do the exact opposite of what Perfuma has been advising her to avoid. She pushes the thoughts and the feelings deep within, dismissing the storm of emotions forming, and ignoring the situation altogether. 

If she could just get through the end of the day, she could deal with that shit later. 

_ Alone _ . 

Away from people who could see her potentially breakdown, and away from having to explain everything. 

She’s packing up her things in her last class of the day, when she finally allows herself to think about her upcoming detention, and inklings of those anxious feelings start to return. She’s not entirely sure what Weaver's detention plan is, but she heads to the Trophy Room assuming that's where they will be cleaning. 

On her way there she passes students, both younger and older, making their way out of the cramped corridors and into the beautiful fall afternoon. She wishes more than anything that she could trade lives with them, even for a day, to just see what it would be like to not have to jump through hoops all the time. Maybe she would be dating someone, or maybe she would pick up a hobby like gardening, or spend more time by the lake. Maybe she would be at peace with her past, and have her parents back in her life, surrounded by the warmth of family. In those lives, she would definitely  _ not _ be the Slytherin Head Girl, and would definitely  _ not _ be walking into detention with her...ex-best friend. 

When Catra arrives at the room on the third floor, Adora is already standing there looking incredibly uncomfortable, while Weaver stands at the foot of the door. Catra can feel her heart involuntarily pick up, but she resumes her look of disinterest. 

“Ms. Cortez, you’re  _ late _ .” Weaver accuses, while tapping her foot impatiently. 

“By like two minutes??” Catra says in defense. 

“Don’t make me also put this on your record.” Weaver's voice has an extra edge to it that reminds Catra of their conversation from the other day. Catra glares at her but doesn’t say anything back. 

Weaver looks between both her and Adora, before turning around to unlock the Trophy Room. 

The beat-up oak door creaks open, revealing a dusty room filled floor to ceiling with trophies and trinkets, all piled neatly together on shelves or shoved in tall glass cases. It's dim and dark and dusty, and Catra thinks she's going to need another bath after their time in here today. 

“Here are your rags and polish, I expect absolutely no talking or procrastinating while you are in here. Be sure you get those spots in the corners, the last students did a horrendous job at that. I will be back in about an hour to check on your progress, and only then I’ll determine if it's  _ worthy _ of letting you both out for the day.” Weaver says all of this with a threatening smile, like this is her favorite part of her job. 

Before either of them can say anything, she slams the door shut, locking them both in for the prolonged punishment. 

“Ugh, I’ll take the left side.” Catra says, and she leans down to pick up a rag and the polish that Weaver left on the ground. 

“What if I want the left side?” Adora challenges, crossing her arms. 

“ _ Fine _ . Take the left side, I really don’t give a shit.” Catra grumbles, pushing past Adora to the right side of the room where the glass cases are.

Adora grabs her rag and polish as well, and heads to the left side which mostly consists of dusty shelves, and a few tournament trophies. She knocks into something on her way over, and Catra hears metal loudly banging against the hard stone floor. Adora curses under her breath, and it's quiet enough in the room that Catra can hear everything. 

_ God what an idiot.  _

“You’re supposed to clean the trophies, not damage them beyond repair.” Catra calls over her shoulder, already working on polishing up a golden shield. 

“I thought we ‘weren’t supposed to talk’?” Adora mocks. 

She’s technically right, but it's not like Weaver’s standing right outside the door just waiting to bust them for saying a couple of words. Or maybe she is, Catra wouldn’t be surprised. 

“Since when do you care about Weaver’s rules?” Catra asks. 

“I don’t. I just-” Adora falters, trying to find an explanation for her words. 

She clears her throat before she continues, “You know some of us don’t get detention often, and I’d rather just keep it that way instead of giving Weaver a reason to make me do this again next week.” 

“You know she’s not even near us right now? We can make a little noise, chill out.” 

Catra hears Adora huff from the other side of the room, but she doesn’t say anything after that, so the room falls into a tense silence. After a while, the only sound coming from either of them are the rags squeaking against metal, and the occasional shuffle of feet. 

Catra’s not sure how much time has passed, and at one point finds herself kneeling under a low cabinet trying to grab some old award that had been stuffed in the back of the shelf. She attempts to shimmy her way out from the large cabinet, but she pulls up too fast and ends up slamming the back of her head into the base of the shelf. It sends a familiar throb through her skull and she tightly closes her eyes. 

“Fuck!” She cries out. 

“Are you alright?” Adora asks quickly. 

“Yeah...I’m fine.” 

“Did you hit your head?” 

“No.” 

“You’re lying, I saw you hit your head.” Adora is looking at her with a knowing expression, the same one Catra has seen way too many times in the past. 

“If you saw then why did you even ask?” 

“Because I was trying to see if you were  _ okay _ ? Sue me for caring.” 

Catra lets out a short, bitter laugh. 

“You don’t ‘care’ at all, you’re just trying to make yourself feel better about the fact you're the one who got us detention in the first place. Stop trying to play nice.” Catra spits out, and she knows she's about to start something she probably won’t be able to finish. 

“Okay you know what?” Adora throws her rag down on the ground, crossing the invisible line separating them on either side of the room, and storms over to Catra. 

She towers a few inches above, and Catra has to tilt her head up to meet her fiery gaze. 

“I wasn’t the only one who was late to class on Friday, so maybe rethink who you’re pointing the fingers at.” Adora places her index finger on Catra’s chest to emphasize her argument, and Catra stubbornly thwarts it away. 

But Adora’s not finished. 

“Also! The only reason I even asked if you were okay was because  _ you  _ bodyslammed into  _ my _ fucking elbow on Saturday and you might have a concussion, so you should be more careful where you throw your head.” 

“Okay well,  _ you  _ don’t get to tell me what the fuck I should ‘be more careful’ about! And I think I would know if I had a concussion.” Catra counters, staring down Adora again. 

Her annoyance is growing in her chest, and she goes on with her rant before Adora has a chance to speak. 

“But since you  _ really _ seem to want to know how I’m doing, I hit my temple during the match, not the back of my head. Completely different.” She says indignantly. 

“So you have multiple concussions then.” Adora says this matter-of-factly, holding up two fingers. 

The comment sends Catra over the edge, and she throws her own rag down as well. 

“Holy shit, stop trying to prove me wrong! Or pretending like you actually care, just-...just piss off Adora!” She finally yells out, face contorted with anger. 

Something flashes across Adora’s face, and Catra can tell she’s hit a nerve. Her exasperation dissolves away, and for a quick, fleeting moment there is a resemblance of hurt. She opens her mouth to say something, but she closes it and turns around. 

Catra watches her walk back to her side of the room, shoulders hanging. 

_ What just...happened?  _

One minute Adora’s all riled up and ready to fight and then next she just, walks away? It’s not like Catra had said anything  _ that  _ mean, outside of her usual callousness. Adora was crossing her boundaries on so many levels that it seemed warranted. 

But still, it caused a familiar sensation to course through her though, after seeing Adora turn away from her like that. She can’t quite place it, but then her mind identifies its source, without hesitation. 

_ Guilt. _

She feels guilty for what she said. Even though she’s still unsure why it caused Adora to look so upset. Catra turns her head towards the opposite end of the room and she sees Adora with her arms outstretched, leaning against the edge of a table with her head down. She’s just standing there, not saying anything, and not moving to grab her rag off the floor. 

_ Ugh. _

Catra lets out a long, slow exhale. She knows what she  _ should  _ do. She should try to tell Adora it was an accident, and that it's probably for the best that they let it be. Just apologize, and then they can walk away like they always do, and neither of them have to ever go through a conversation like that ever again. 

But, she honestly can’t see herself taking the high road over something she wasn’t even in the wrong for. What Catra can tell though, is that whatever she said, it really hit Adora a lot harder than she ever intended.

So she looks up to the ceiling, as if it would somehow give her the answer to her problem, and then looks over to Adora. Quickly, she makes her mind up. 

_ Here goes nothing.  _

“Look I’m...sorry. For whatever I just said.” Catra’s not sure Adora heard her, but there’s no way in hell she's repeating herself, so she waits for her to say something. 

Do anything, really. 

After a beat, Adora moves. She avoids Catra’s piercing stare and opts to grab the rag off the floor. As she slowly begins polishing a silver plate, she speaks. 

“You know, this is like the first time we’ve had a conversation longer than  _ a sentence _ , in years. And the one of the first things you tell me is literally-” 

Adora can’t seem to finish the sentence, but she’s polishing the silver  _ much _ harder than before. 

“It's one of the last things you ever said to me.” 

Catra feels frozen in place. Even though the room is already cold, Catra feels like everything just dropped ten degrees, and she shivers. 

“What-...what are talking about?” Catra asks, confused. 

“That first day, on the train. You didn’t even talk to me, you just told me to... piss off,” She repeats, “That was probably the last thing you ever said to me. Until, you know, recently.” 

Adora’s looking away, but Catra can make out her reflection in the trophy case. Her hair is falling into her face, eyebrows scrunched together, and her mouth is pulled down in a tight frown. 

But her eyes. 

Her eyes look lost. Mind floating away to the past, casting a cool glaze over those dark grey irises. 

It all comes back to Catra in flashes: the shock of seeing Adora on the train at Hogwarts, the relief of knowing she was okay, the resentment towards Adora’s new situation, and the regret after telling her to essentially, fuck off. 

She doesn’t know what to say. 

The time has come and gone to have this conversation. To mend something that used to be so delicate, shrouded in careful touches and whispers that danced on the edge of their lips when they were young. Something that was so strong it coursed like wind around them, enveloping them in a space that was all their own. That same thing that is now huge and ugly and probably the biggest elephant in the whole fucking room.

The room feels small all of a sudden, like Adora’s words have snatched up all the air that’s left. It makes Catra’s chest constrict, and she takes shallow breaths to avoid hyperventilating. She wasn’t prepared to dive straight into this, not after years of trying to let it all go. Trying to let it wash over her, cycle through, and finally wring her out to dry from the stained memories.

She can’t believe how easy it is for Adora to bring it all back, in an instant. Catra tries to steady the frustration rising up through her, but it slips out anyway. 

“Well what do you want me to say? Sorry for being upset at you? I was eleven.” Catra explains, but it sounds like a cop out. 

_ It is _ a cop out. And when Adora whirls around to face her again, Catra can see the storm that has been brewing in her eyes finally meet her head on. 

“I want you to just..talk to me! About what happened! I don’t-” Adora’s eyes are searching for something, shifting back and forth as she looks at Catra. She looks desperate, like she’s waiting for Catra to relieve her of some invisible duty she’s been upholding. 

“I’ve never understood what the fuck happened, to us. After I... left.” Her eyes finally fall, heavy with the confession. 

Catra thinks there really wasn’t much to understand, and even when she was young she thought she made herself pretty clear. It bothers her that Adora still wants to know, after all this time, why she acted the way that she did. Catra decides to paint it clear for her one last time.

“Yeah, you  _ left _ . I didn’t hear from you for a year. A  _ year _ Adora. And while you were off having the time of your life with some rich kids upstate, I had to figure out all this magical shit on my own. I was a fucking  _ kid _ , and I was alone.” 

Her words cut like glass, and she expects Adora to fight back, make some excuse that it wasn’t her fault and that she was just the lucky one plucked from the bunch. 

But Adora looks surprised over Catra’s admission, and her eyes soften a bit. 

This throws her off. 

Catra’s more equipped to handle a reaction of outright denial and anger, than something remotely close to compassion, especially when it's coming from Adora. And for some reason, it pisses her off even more, so she keeps going with her speech deciding to lay it all on the table just like Adora wants. 

“ _ And _ , even after our first year here, you never even tried to reach out! Or had the decency to come back and visit. Did you know Ms. Etheria got sick after our fifth year?” Catra feels the fire in her body return, her anguish and bitterness in full throttle. 

“No I- I didn’t know that.” Adora manages to say. “Is she okay?”

_ Like you give a shit.  _

“Yeah, she is. For now, at least. I visit her every couple of months, but Rogelio stays with her full time.” Catra explains cynically, and she looks away. 

She cannot cry right now, not here. Not in front of Adora, who is gently standing there with her hands neatly folded in front of her, nodding in understanding. Her expression is filled with a painful sadness, and she patiently waits for Catra to say more, but there is nothing left to say. 

Catra swallows the lump in her throat and looks at the floor, pushing down her emotions into a place where she can try to concentrate on something, anything, other than Adora’s face. 

Then-

“I did visit, you know.” Adora says quietly. 

Catra’s head snaps up to her. 

“What? When...?” 

“During my fourth year. Angella had to go to the city for a business trip, and I got her to take me with so I could go visit the home.” She lets her chest rise and fall before she continues, “I got to catch up with Ms. Etheria, and meet a few of the new kids staying there. And I tried looking for you, but you weren’t there…” 

Catra pinches her eyes shut, bringing her hand to rub the edges of her furrowed brows. She’s trying to understand a lot of things at this point, so all she says is, “Yeah I moved out that summer.” 

Catra had actually moved in temporarily with Scorpia’s family, in their small flat downtown. It was closer to the train station, and Catra had accepted their offer to let her stay with them for a while, knowing there would be one less mouth to feed for Ms. Etheria if she left. Not that Ms. Etheria would ever admit that, but Catra knew it was ultimately true. 

“And I did reach out. Or I at least tried.” Adora offers. 

Catra stares back at her, thoroughly confused at that last part. 

“What?” It feels like all she’s been doing for the last few minutes is asking follow up questions to Adora’s statements, unable to catch up with the new revelations.

“When I went to visit, I left that letter for you?” Adora asks. Catra just shakes her head, not remembering any letter. Especially one like that, which she most certainly would’ve remembered to save. 

“I gave it to Ms. Etheria... to give to you? It had my contact info and everything.” Adora looks embarrassed now, trying to get Catra to recall the instance. 

“Adora...Ms. Etheria probably forgot to give it to me,” Catra realizes, and her tone changes as she becomes aware of what might’ve happened. 

She attempts to explain the issue to Adora, and she clarifies, “I mean, it's not like I was visiting her that often to pick anything up, since I wasn’t living there. Also, she needed help getting to the post office so it's not like she would have been able to send it to me. And...her dementia was just starting then so she  _ definitely _ just forgot.” 

Catra can see the information processing in Adora’s head, minor illustrations of thought written across her face. She looks off in the distance, rubbing her arms awkwardly. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah,  _ oh _ .” 

Catra knows her response is harsh, but she needs Adora to consider things from her side. See how life may seem all fine now, but years ago things at the home were difficult. And in reality all of it would’ve been a whole lot easier if Catra had just had Adora by her side, picking up the pieces the way she used to pick up the books that flew off their shelves. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t visit when she wasn’t doing well.” Adora sounds genuinely apologetic, and Catra's heart squeezes tightly. 

“Its...fine. You didn’t know.” She acknowledges, still feeling shitty at the fact that Adora  _ did _ try to reach out, and it just never made it to her. Of course this would fucking happen, of course Adora would choose to lay down her pride first to offer an olive branch, only for the universe to promptly shatter it immediately. 

Catra sighs. “Look to be fair, I didn’t reach out either.” It's a rare moment of vulnerability, and it's honest. 

Yet, the words still leave an uncomfortable feeling inside her, and she thinks of a way to slightly deflect the topic away from herself, before Adora comments. 

“But it didn’t seem like it would’ve mattered much at that point since we had both sort of...moved on?” Catra only suggests that last part, knowing full well that she never truly moved on from their friendship. Relationship. Whatever the hell it was, it had been stuck inside her all these years without ever budging an inch. 

Yet Adora’s face is gentle, hearing Catra admit some of her own faults, acknowledging how things did change for them. It makes Catra wish she had never said anything at all, because now all she could think about was how much she wanted to stay there. 

Stay there and keep talking to Adora while she looks back at her like that. Like she wasn’t an enemy, or an annoyance, or a puzzle to figure out. But like a real person that she once used to know, care for, and treasure. 

“Yeah...moved on. I can- um. Understand why you didn’t want to talk to me.” Adora replies, rubbing the back of her neck. 

It's a perfect opportunity for Catra to agree, and she almost does. But she’s not ready to end this. Whatever  _ this _ is. A very loud, and very obvious, part of her knows she wants to keep going. She wants to know more about the person standing in front of her, that she no longer recognizes. 

“Yeah well...I’m talking to you now so…” Catra can feel heat rising to her face, and she coughs to cover herself. 

Adora has the smallest, tiniest, hint of smile peeking out from her lips. 

“I thought there was a rule or something...against talking?” 

They both laugh in relief. 

Catra feels noticeably lighter, like she can breathe again. Possibly for the first time in years. Possibly since that first day on the train. And in that moment she has this horrible, awful, ground-shaking realization that she...misses their laughter together. 

She misses Adora’s laugh in particular, which echoes throughout the room is a fantastic harmony. And when they both finish, there's a silence between them, but it's no longer filled with the apprehension from before. 

“I still don’t like you.” Catra narrows her eyes in fake intensity. 

Adora raises up both hands in defense. 

“Never said you had to. Our teams hate each other, remember? I think that's actually expected.” 

She was right about that, and if Prime could hear their conversation right now he would immediately kick her off the team. Or just, kick her in the face. 

“Yeah well, I don’t want you to think just because we had a heart to heart in the  _ Trophy Room _ , that everything is all rainbows and sunshine.” 

“Is that what we had? A heart to heart?” Adora’s back to her teasing self, and Catra has to try not to roll her eyes. 

“Whatever you want to call it princess.” She retorts, but there's a delicate smile on her face.

“ _ Princess? _ ” Adora repeats in disgust. 

Catra only laughs, walking back over to her side of the room. She needs some space after that rollercoaster of a talk. She starts to pick up the polish again, as she hears Adora call over to her again. 

“You know, um, now that we've broken the ‘no talking’ rule, I did want to ask you something...” It sounds like a trap, and Catra doesn’t want to give in to her that easily. 

“No.” 

“Okay so on Saturday, during the match...” Adora ignores her, asking anyway. “How did you do it?” 

_ There it is.  _

Catra’s been waiting for this one, should’ve seen it from a mile away. The only thing that is ever on Adora’s mind,  _ besides unresolved childhood trauma apparently _ , is Quidditch. 

“How did I... what? Beat your sorry ass?” Catra smirks, and Adora shakes her head at her. 

“My ass is  _ not _ sorry.” Adora sounds offended. Catra knows what she’s trying to say, but the way it came off makes her sound even more ridiculous than usual. 

Catra lets out a small laugh, and looks over at Adora. She's leaning around some stone pillar, and Catra has a perfect view of her backside. Which, she must admit, is not sorry. Adora  _ does _ have a great ass, but that's well besides the point. 

After a moment she realizes she’s staring and she quickly turns around, trying to ignore the fact that she just totally checked Adora out. 

_ Scorpia’s right I do need to get laid.  _

“No I meant-” 

“I know what you meant, and sorry-ass or not, why the  _ fuck _ would I ever tell you?” Catra interjects. 

Ironically, she felt more comfortable talking about their broken past than the most recent match. She was still having trouble wrapping her head around being thrust in the spotlight, but of course Adora would have no problem wanting to discuss enemy tactics. 

“We just had a heart to heart!” Adora argues.

“No the fuck we did  _ not _ , Grayskull.” Catra argues back, avoiding saying Adora’s name like the plague. 

Adora has a habit of being unrelentless, no matter what area of life that is -- school, sports, future goals, big aspirations -- and it makes Catra nauseous. She has always pushed, fighting for those around her because she thought she was doing the right thing. Thought it would fill the hole inside of her that told her that no matter how hard she tried, she had to keep going, because most times it was never enough. 

There were simply no other options, in her mind, because most people in her life had not allowed her to just simply exist. And Catra knew this about her, even when it came down to the little things. Like arguing about specifics about a match. She knew that Adora had a fight in her even when she shouldn’t. 

It dawns on Catra that Adora is very much still, Adora. 

And while that means she's unrelentless and  _ oh my god _ annoying as hell, Catra can see the same person who would fight tooth and nail for the things she was passionate about. And she was passionate about, well, most things she set her sights on. 

“Sooo...what? Did you study film from professional games? Put a spell on your broom? Work out a deal with the devil?” Adora lists off. 

“Yeah actually, sold my soul and everything. Did you know they give you cute lil horns too as a souvenir when you do it?” Catra says sarcastically, pointing to her head to emphasize the image. 

Adora actually laughs at that. She’s always found Catra’s sarcasm entertaining, even at the worst moments. Like this one. 

“Yeah, makes sense. Bet you’d look good in red.” She grins. 

Catra almost drops her polish. 

She knew Adora probably meant it in a ‘You are the literal devil’ red or a ‘Go Gryffindors it's the best color’ red, but if Catra not mistaken it sounded highly suggestive of... something else. Catra can feel her body get warm at the idea, and she chalks it up to the fact that she hasn’t received a phrase like that in, well, a while. Except for maybe this morning at the showers, but she’s erasing that from her mind. 

Either way, she ignores it. 

“Nah, this body looks great in green.” 

Is she flirting back? Is that what’s happening now? It's all a mess so she might as well keep digging the grave deeper. One detention and then she technically, truthfully, realistically doesn’t have to speak to this person again. Having checked off _unresolved tension_ _with Adora_ from her to-do list, she figures that will be good for the rest of the year. 

“So you’re really not going to-”

The sound of footsteps approaching the door stops Adora from finishing her sentence. 

The lock jingles for a short moment, before Weaver casually swings open the door, walking in as if she owned the place.

“I hope what I heard before I entered was talk about all the thorough work you got done, Ms. Grayskull.” 

“See for yourself.” Adora says through gritted teeth, turning to show off her noticeably clean side of the room. Catra looks over at her own side, and thinks she did a fine job as well. Even with the talking, she had to distract herself by doing something other than just standing there. 

“Move. Both of you.” Weaver commands. 

Catra rolls her eyes and the two of them head to the front of the room, dropping their rags and polish on the ground. Adora is sending Weaver a death glare behind her back, and it shouldn’t be as funny as it is, but it brings a small smirk to Catra's face. 

Meanwhile, Weaver is waltzing about the room, running a finger along tables, glass casings, and random trophies resting on shelves. Catra holds her breath when she makes her way over to her side of the room, suddenly swooping down to inspect the lower cabinets. 

“Well, I see you got those pesky corners like I asked.” 

“ _ Yeah almost got a concussion for it too _ ..” Catra mutters under her breath. Adora snorts in response, and Weaver sends a scrutinizing gaze their way. 

“Care to share something, Ms. Cortez?” Weaver says slowly. 

“No.” Catra responds, bunching her hands into fists at her sides.

“Good. I would hate to have to add on another week of this for you,” She threatens, her words directed at Catra but implied to the both of them. “Although.. this room has never shined this nice in quite some time, perhaps we make this a regular thing?” 

Neither of them respond, but Catra faintly hears Adora scoff. She’s blatantly staring Weaver down, and Weaver looks back at her with a similar glare. Catra hates to admit it, but Adora’s got guts sometimes when it came to her pride. 

“Hmm, but we wouldn’t want to distract you from your other  _ duties _ though, would we?” 

Catra slowly shakes her head in response, despising every single word that escapes Weavers horrendous lips. Weaver accepts Catra's silence as submission, looking pleased.

“Alright. You two are free to go. Take your rags to the elves to clean, I don't want that filth kept in here.” 

Catra sends a silent prayer to the universe that this day is finally going to end. It's only Monday, but all she wants to do is curl up in bed and sleep through the rest of the week. She takes Weaver's words as instant permission to leave, and she promptly snatches her bag, and the rag, off of the ground before anyone can stop her. 

She thinks she’s successfully avoided having to say an embarrassing goodbye, when she hears Adora calling out her name. Catra maybe had a head start on her, but Adora moves  _ fast _ , and it's not long before she's walking side by side with her. 

“Catra wait- hey. Stop for a sec.” Adora says out of breath. 

“Can’t. I have an appointment with my bed.” Catra drones out. 

“I was- I was just going to offer to take all the rags down to the elves?” Adora positions herself directly in Catra's path, forcing her to pause in her determined speed walk. 

“Oh. Uh... yeah. Here.” Catra hands over her rag, and Adora’s hand momentarily brushes her own. It's warm, and surprisingly soft for someone who looks like they lift rocks all day for fun. She pulls away as if she just touched the common room fire, and Catra can feel the air between them become awkward. 

“Thanks.” Catra manages, eyes darting away. She starts to walk again, but Adora joins beside her. 

“Don’t mention it.” Adora shrugs. 

They walk for a few steps in silence, before Catra realizes-

“You know, you missed the staircase to the elves.”

“ _ Oh shit _ …” 

Catra stifles a laugh, keeping her pace the same as Adora backtracks towards the stairs. 

“Okay um, I guess I’ll see you around?” She calls out towards Catra. 

It's odd, that having been the second time today she’s heard that phrase said towards her. The coincidences just never cease with this one. 

“No you won’t.” Catra says, but it's playful, unlike her exact response to the Hufflepuff boy. 

“Yeah, yeah…” Catra can hear Adora say dismissively as she heads out of sight. 

Catra’s mind goes blank the entire way back to her room, moving through the castle on autopilot. She chooses to not think about anything in particular, trying not to overanalyze the conversations she just had, and know how the puzzle pieces all fit together. It was an odd position to be in, and it made her more than uneasy. 

Adora, whether she was aware of it or not, split Catra open like it was nothing. 

Pushed and pushed until she made her way snuggly in between what Catra hated the most, and what catra feared the most. Which was, her feelings. Those tricky bastards that lied deep within in heart, and were more guarded than a maximum security facility. 

And that was only after an hour spent with her. 

Catra can feel a wave of relief knowing that she never has to go through that again. She can feel the weight of the day, the weight of Adora’s words, and Weaver’s unending malice, roll off of her the second she walks into her room and sees Melog sleeping peacefully at the foot of her bed. 

“You. I need you, come here.” She says softly as she flops onto the bed and pulls Melog into her arms. He’s sleepy, and cracks his eyes open letting out a small squeak of surprise, before purring in her embrace. 

“Melog... I wish I could have your life.” She whispers into his soft fur, and he nudges further against her. 

She sits against her headboard, peacefully scratching the top of his head when she notices a letter on her desk. 

It’s blended in slightly with the backdrop of her scattered assignments, but stands out with the red Hogwarts seal pressed firmly into it. Catra shifts to gently set Melog down, and then leans over to inspect it further. It's clearly addressed to her, and she thinks Scorpia must have picked it up and placed it there for her. She rips it open out of sheer curiosity, scanning her eyes over words printed in elegant handwriting. 

It's from Professor Angella, letting her know she got off the waitlist for the Transfigurations class. 

“Holy shit, no way. No fucking way.” She says out loud to no one, blinking a few times and re-reading the letter. 

This had to be retributions for the day she just had, since there was just no other way to describe it. That waitlist was...long, if Catra remembers. And even though she was Head Girl, she didn’t really expect much to change because of how popular that class was. This would mean she now had transfigurations in the morning, shifting a few of her other classes to alternative times, but she didn’t mind at all.

Actually, when she thought about it more, it meant that she no longer had Potions with Adora. 

_ Thank god _ , was the first thought that came to her mind. She wasn’t at all ready to face her, not after what just went down between them. 

“Melog are you seeing this shit??” Catra said excitedly, but Melog was more interested in sleep. 

She does a small little dance in her room, grateful that not one is watching. 

Later that night, Catra tells Scorpia the good news at dinner. She finds out that Entrapta and Scorpia both have that class as well, and it only makes her feel even more relieved, since Transfigurations was probably her toughest subject. They make a pact to help each other out on the assignments, which meant Entrapta doing most of the work for them and Catra asking her for some of the notes later. 

There were just some classes that she accepted that were better off left to a Ravenclaw. 

The next morning, Scorpia and her walk over to the class together. There's still eyes following Catra through the halls, but she’s gotten much more used to it now. She watches a Gryffindor boy ogle her from down the hall, and he trips over a bottom step poking out from the stairs. 

Catra bursts out into laughter, enjoying every minute of it. 

“Fames changed you.” Scorpia says, nudging her with her elbow. 

“Yeah but when do I actually get compensated for it? There’s no glory in watching kids fall down the stairs over me…” She pauses, and Scorpia gives her a look. 

They both laugh, knowing full well that there is  _ some  _ glory in that. 

“Oh speaking of compensation though, you didn’t hear? They updated the poster!” Scorpia blurts out, as if she just remembered to let Catra know. 

“What poster?” 

“The big one at the stadium?” 

“ _ The banner? _ ” Catra asks incredulously. 

“Yeah that's what I meant, they put you on the banner. Doing your upside-down thingy.” Scorpia says proudly. 

“My- my upside down thingy?” Catra laughs, not really believing Scorpia still. 

“Dude you have to check it out it looks incredible!”

“I bet you, without even looking at it, that I  _ do not _ look incredible. Nobody looks good upside and sweaty.” Catra counters. 

They both arrive at transfigurations on time, and Catra’s actually in a good mood for once it seems. She wants to hold onto this feeling, since it doesn’t come often. She’s joking with Scorpia, giggling as she walks into the pristine classroom. 

And then she sees her. 

_ Are. You. Serious.  _

Adora’s standing in the middle of the room, chatting up the same girl with pink hair, and carrying a cocky grin on her face. She has one leg up on a chair, and her head is thrown back in laughter as the girl says something to her, emphasizing her point with both her hands.

“Nooooo.” Catra says, roughly dragging a hand over her face. 

“What? What is it?” Scorpia sounds confused, and she looks around the room for what Catra’s referring to. 

“Adora’s here! In this class! Scorpia, how did you forget to mention that??” Catra asks in a hushed, frantic tone. 

“Oh yeah, I uh... sort of forgot about that. But hey, at least you got me!” Scorpia says, trying to be supportive. 

Catra turns to her, giving her the most deadpan look she can muster. 

“Oh no…” Scorpia suddenly says, looking over Catra’s shoulder. 

“What now.” 

“She's coming over here.” 

“Fuck me.” Catra mutters, right as Adora walks up to them. 

“Only with consent.” Adora chimes in. 

“Adora...please. For the love of all things magical, go away.” Catra begs.

“I actually didn’t come over here to talk to  _ you _ , Catra. I just wanted to give Scorpia back her book…” Adora arrogantly smiles at them, reaching into her bag to pull out a thick, tan book with a worn leather binding. 

“Oh! Thanks.” Scorpia says kindly, reaching out and putting it in her own bag. 

Catra must be seeing things. This is also the same Adora and Scorpia that battled it out on the field on Saturday. The same ones who have been playing against each other longer than Catra was even on the team. 

“I’m sorry am I...missing something?” Catra asks, wiggling a finger between them. 

They both look at Catra with confusion. 

“Are you two...friends or?” She asks again, hoping that what she’s seeing in front of her is all a mirage. 

“We’re... classmates?” Adora offers, still looking confused. 

“I let her borrow my book.” Scorpia says with a shrug. 

So apparently rivalries don't exist in the boundaries of Transfigurations class, good to know. Catra makes a mental note of that, still shocked at the interaction between the two of them. Adora is about to say something else to her, but her voice is silenced by the presence of Professor Angella walking in from a side door, and heading to the front of the room. 

“Alright, class please take your seats. I hope you all prepared for the lesson today, since I don’t exactly plan on repeating myself twice.” Professor Angella says in a commanding voice, although Catra notes that it's much softer than Weavers. Her directions come out as if she has already earned the respect of the students, not as if she’s trying to threaten them. 

And it shows, immediately, as everyone quietly takes their seats to begin the lesson. Catra follows Scorpia to a spot towards the back, near a large window that is just barely ajar. 

Professor Angella still looks roughly the same as when Catra first saw her, when she came into the home to discuss Adora’s new “arrangements.” She was tall, slender, and held herself with grace and poise. She had the ability to get things done on her own terms, without protest from those around her. 

It would’ve inspired Catra, if she wasn’t so intimidated by her. 

“But before we dive into the lesson, I am going to be reading out your partners for our upcoming project…” Angella has a large book open at the top of her desk, and she puts on her tiny reading glasses to squint at the names she has written on the pages. 

She goes through the list, randomly assigning partners of two. Catra can see people giving each other high-fives and making obvious eye contact in acknowledgement once they are paired. There's a good number of students in the class, and it takes a moment to get through them all. 

One by one Catra can see the students raising their hands and being marked off on the list, and it makes her heart rate pick up. The numbers are dwindling, and soon almost all the students are called. Except, she hasn’t heard either her or Scorpia’s name yet, so maybe there's a chance after all. 

But her sliver of hope vanishes as she hears Scorpia get called next, pairing up with a boy a few rows ahead of them who’s sitting next to the pink haired girl. When he turns in his seat to give Scorpia a wave, Catra recognizes him as one of the Gryffindor Chasers. 

Catra wouldn’t stand two seconds being partnered up with him, and she's thankful that Scorpia took the bullet on that one. 

And then, she hears Professor Angella call out her own name. 

“Ms. Cortez and...Ms. Grayskull.”

_ This is a sick joke.  _

Catra just stares at Professor Angella, mouth slightly agape. There's at least twenty other students in here, twenty other nameless faces that she could’ve been paired with. Twenty other people who she didn’t just happen to have an agonizing, emotion-filled detention with. Twenty other people she didn’t want to punch in the face every five minutes. 

Catra can’t see Adora’s face, but her reaction is obvious. She throws her head down into the crooks of her arms, collapsing onto the table in dramatic defeat. To top it all off, she lets out a low groan. 

_ Yeah, the feeling is mutual.  _

“Oh you’re...paired with Adora?” Scorpia whispers, noticing how neither of them stand or wave to each other after being called. 

“No Scorp, I’m paired with the other kid with the last name Grayskull.” Catra bites out. 

“That’s... fucked. But, you know, since I’m paired with Bow I’m sure we’ll end up seeing each other for the projects. ”

“There is no way I’m hanging out with someone who’s  _ literally _ named Bow. Also he’s their Chaser for god sakes!” Catra says that last point a little too loudy, and a Ravenclaw girl next to her shoots her a dirty look. 

She lets that one go. 

“Well, I mean otherwise it would just be you and Adora. Alone. For the whole project…” Scorpia taunts, knowing exactly how awful the prospect of that would be. 

Catra takes a moment to consider her options, pulling out her wand and parchment as Professor Angella writes the subject of their lesson on the board. She’d rather just work alone, and she wonders if that's something she could work out down the line. 

“You see this is why group projects should be illegal. I don’t know anyone besides you and maybe Entrapta,  _ and _ I know I’m going to be pulling the weight no matter who I’m paired with.” Catra says as she glares at her paper. 

She’s trying to find the Chapter in the book that Professor Angella is referring to, but she can’t stop her scattered mind from thinking about the project. She doesn’t even know what it's about, for starters. That's the issue with joining the class late, she’s all out of the loop. Catra needs to be in the loop, at all times, and on top of her shit. Hell, she normally wasn’t just  _ in _ the loop, she  _ was _ the loop. Cycling back and forth, between work and rest. 

Catra continues to say, “Also, Adora may be top of her class, but she's probably one of the dumbest people I’ve ever met.”

“I heard she got top scores on her O.W.L.s?” Scorpia comments. 

“Yeah well I also saw her trip over her own foot in the Trophy Room, and knock over a whole case of fancy medals,” Catra remarks. “She’s a klutz, who’s lucky she can even manage to stay upright on a broom.” 

“....You should give her a chance?” Scorpia gently suggests. 

“Woah what? Since when are you switching sides?” Catra’s face twists in disapproval. 

“I’m not! I just think the whole rivalry thing is pointless, and we should have ‘House unity as a school.’ At least... that's what Perfuma says. But I agree with her!” Scorpia states. 

“That’s bullshit.”

“ C’mon wildcat, maybe this will help you work through your... um... past stuff?” Scorpia says, trying to leave it as vague as possible. 

“Yeah trust me, you don’t want to go there.” 

Catra rolls her eyes at Scopria’ suggestion, writing feverishly with her quill and studying Professor Angella’s wand movements as she transforms a mouse into a shiny gold coin. She has no idea how she’s going to be able to do that successfully, and she’s worried for a moment that the group project might be a total failure on both ends. 

While Catra attentively watches the lesson, Adora on the other hand has finally moved her head up from the table, and is precariously leaning back in her chair. She has no notes in front of her, and is instead staring off into space while twirling a hair tie between her fingers. 

Catra wants to kick the chair out from under her. 

_ How can someone be so infuriating from just six feet away? _

She tries to bring her attention back to her work, and it helps, for most of the class. She doesn’t even look in Adora’s direction until the class is over, when Adora immediately jumps up out of her seat. Catra watches her walk up to Professor Angella while the other students are packing up their things, pulling the tall woman aside to talk about something. 

Catra sighs, knowing that its probably about the project, and how they’re destined for failure. 

She throws her wand and books into her bag, lugging it over her shoulder and attempting to follow Scorpia out the door. But, she freezes when Professor Angella calls out her name. 

“Ms. Cortez, a moment of your time, please.” 

_ Yeah, that can’t be good.  _

Catra slowly turns on her heels, paying no mind at the remaining students who stare at her as she walks by, like she just got caught in the act of a crime. She meanders up to where Angella is standing, and she gives Catra a soft smile. 

Adora is idling waiting beside her, looking slightly uncomfortable, and eyes holding a weariness to them. 

“I wanted to say, I am glad you were able to join this class, I’m assuming my letter made it to you well?” Angella asks.

“Yes... ma’am, it did.” Catra feels like she’s talking to the Headmaster rather than one of her professors. 

Angella has been highly regarded, for some time now, as one of the top scholars and professors in magical academia. Catra’s never quite been able to meet her, due to her status and popularity at the school, and a small part of her is jealous of Adora’s closeness to her. She thinks back to how Adora didn’t even take notes during lecture, and wonder’s if Adora’s taking advantage of that ‘closeness’ now. 

“Good, I wanted to speak with you,” Angella explains, and looks over at Adora too. “Well, both of you. You see it's come to my attention that the two of you have had some...incidents, in other classes prior. Is this true?” 

“Yes-” Adora starts. 

“No.” Catra contradicts. 

“I see.” Angella has a small smile peeking out from her pursed expression. “Well, I take this class, and my profession, very seriously to ensure that the environment I create is safe and productive. For  _ all _ my students. I want to clarify that to the both of you, so that whatever has happened before, it does not happen again. You can have a clean slate with me, and we can move on.”

Catra eagerly shakes her head, agreeing wholeheartedly at that last statement. All she’s ever wanted to do, since Adora’s unfortunate reappearance in her life this year is to just move on. 

“And Adora was just explaining to me that she would like to work alone on the project.”

Catra narrows her eyes, looking at Adora with scrutiny.

“Uh huh…” Catra comments with hesitation, turning her attention back to Angella. 

“And before I gave her an answer, I wanted you to be present in this conversation. You see, I think collaboration is key to success in our work structures. But not only that, I think having different perspectives is what will help you grow as individuals. And I want you to leave this class, as more than you are now.”

That idea sounds horrible in Catra’s mind, but she isn’t going to argue with her. Not when she just got here. 

“So,” Angella says, walking back over to look over at her giant book of notes. “I am going to keep you two as partners.  _ However _ -” Angella remarks, noticing Adora’s pleading eyes.

“If you two cannot get along for this project, I need you to know that I don’t have any alternatives to make up the grade points. And I hope it doesn’t come to that, because I think you two are exceptionally bright.” 

Catra’s ears perk up. She was not expecting a compliment like that, especially after Angella just acknowledged that she has a  _ reputation _ . Purely based on the exaggerations and lies spread by Weaver of course, and backed up now by Adora’s request to do things separately. But still, it was nice to have an outsider recognize her for her intelligence. 

“You two are the leaders of your Houses, and I know what you are capable of in those roles. Which means, your behavior should follow accordingly.” Angella finishes, giving them an encouraging smile, even though her words held some fair warning to them. 

“Angella what if-” Adora begins. 

“ _ No Adora _ . My decision has been made, but we can talk later if you would like. I have to prepare for my next class though, so if both could kindly leave the classroom that would be appreciated. We will discuss this more next week, when the projects start.” At that, Angella walks back into her office, gently shutting the door.

Catra wonders what Adora was going to say. Probably something along the lines of how they would tear each other to shreds before the start of next week. Or that  _ collaboration _ was never their strong suit. 

Also, she’s honestly a little offended that Adora wouldn’t want to take advantage of the predicament. She clearly has no intention of actually doing the project, based on how she acted today in class, so why wouldn’t she want to take the easy route and let Catra do all the work? 

Did she think Catra wasn’t capable of handling herself? Maybe that she would try to sabotage the project? Or, that after their detention, Catra couldn’t handle being around another person? 

She turns around to head out of the classroom, letting out an angry huff of air as the questions race through her mind. Adora looks over at her, and manages to catch her gaze, shooting her an apologetic look.

“Sorry, am I not a good enough partner for you?” Catra quips as she walks by her. 

“No! That's not why- that’s not it at all. I didn’t…” Adora stutters.

“Didn’t what, Adora?” 

“I didn’t think you would want to work with me after yesterday. I figured you would want to work alone, so I offered it up as a suggestion to Angella but….” Adora trails off, waving her hands around in frustration. 

“Why would you think that?” Catra questions, even though she knows it was a partially right assumption. 

“I mean, am I wrong…?” Adora asks back. 

Catra takes a moment to think, looking away towards the windows before responding. 

“Um, no. You’re not wrong. I was...considering it.” She admits with a shrug. 

Adora looks a little disappointed, and the crease between her brows has returned. It obviously wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but she simply nods and continues to pack up her stuff.

“I know you don’t want to, and you can still try to talk to Angella about it, but I think we could work this out.” Adora suggests, and swiftly turns around to stick her hand out. 

“What are you doing...” Catra looks at her skeptically. 

“Offering to shake on it?” 

“Yeah I’m, not doing that. You can... put that away.” Catra says, looking down at Adoras hand and finding it so beyond-weird that that would be the first thing she thought of. 

“We’re partners at this point, so we might as well suck it up.” Catra laments. 

At that, Adora sends her a genuine smile. To which Catra sends her an even more genuine, frown. 

“So you’re fine with it?” Adora asks suspiciously. 

“I guess.” Catra responds, unamused. 

“Oh man, do you like me or something?” Adora teases. 

“Adora if you don't stop talking soon, I’m going to rip your tongue out.” She dangerously threatens while making her way towards the back of the classroom. 

“So that is a firm yes.” Adora says, walking alongside Catra as they head out down the short set of stairs. Her smile is growing wider, and all Catra can think of in that moment is.... 

_ What’s the best way to ditch her in the halls?  _

“Because I know you. I know you wouldn't have given up the partners fight that easily.” Adora points out, raising her eyebrows. 

She’s right. If Catra had been stuck with someone she really couldn’t stand, like if she got stuck with Bow or something, she would’ve made up some excuse to Angella to have gotten out of it. 

But for some reason, she just accepted the circumstances as they were. 

At this point, she was tired of trying to fight back against whatever convoluted, masterful plan the universe had in store for her. Clearly, it was a losing game. 

“So the only plausible explanation is that you-” 

“I don’t like you.”

“Well you don’t  _ not _ like me.”

“I tolerate you, at best.” Catra looks over at Adora, who is still smiling to herself. 

For some reason, Adora seemed perfectly okay with the outcome of their situation. So Catra, being tired and quite cranky at this point, thought that perhaps she could  _ try _ to be okay with it as well. For the sake of academics, of course. 

And nothing else. 

Adora is rambling on about how they should align their schedules for the project, and something about making a study group, but Catra’s not really paying attention. She’s more focused on how the hell she’s going to spend an entire semester with the idiot beside her. 

Yeah...this was going to be a long week. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on tumblr @jakesalright!


End file.
